Chuck vs The Trojan Horse
by WeAreAllStoriesInTheEnd
Summary: AU season 3, established Chara. One week after the events of Vs the Ring, Chuck must learn to harness and control the Intersect and the upgrades that go with it, even if it means tearing his team and his self apart in the process. Xover w/ Marvel
1. Eye of the Tiger

**An: Hey, wasn't that season 2 finale for Chuck just Awesome? Are you not able to wait until season 3 begins in the fall to know what the hell the deal is with Chuck knowing Kung Fu? Well here is your pysuedo answer! I don't own Chuck, that's NBC...if they renew it! But I do own my imaginative mind and my OC character, Agent Samantha Wesson. Oh, and just to warn everyone reading this, this is a future season 3 fic. As in Chuck and Sarah are already together....yay! its set one week after the wedding btw. Also, I will update Chuck vs the Out of Body Experience this weekend, I promise.**

* * *

**Chapter One: The Eye of the Tiger**

**_One Week Later..._**

He never thought that this was the way it was going to end. Out of all the possible scenarios that had gone through his head over these past two years, he was positive that something so pathetic wouldn't resort to his untimely demise. Closing his eyes in effort to abate the growing pain, he trudged on further into his certain death. _Please, just let this end—_

"Oh come on, Bro!" Devon called out encouragingly, "We're almost half way there and you're doing awesome!"

"Awesome?" Chuck heaved in a breath. It felt like sucking in fire. "Devon let me tell what is awesome…" Grinding his teeth together, he urged his feet to keep on moving. "Sitting down on my comfy bed, eating some Sizzling Shrimp and playing Call of Duty. That---that is awesome. N-not this, this is torture."

Devon, who was jogging at a faster pace than Chuck, slowed down so that his brother-in-law could catch up to him.

Once they were side by side, Devon smiled, "Listen Chuck, John Casey deliberately told me to help you get into shape. He said something about you needing all the energy you can get on missions now, and I told him that'd I help." With a burst of energy, he slapped Chuck on the back enthusiastically, "So buckle down, man, and feel the burn!" He exclaimed happily.

Chuck groaned when Awesome delivered a very enthused pat on the back. "I feel more than a burn…" He mumbled sourly under his breath.

Suddenly the honk of a horn threw the younger man into the air with a start. Nerves standing on end, Chuck alertly swiveled his head from Devon, (who had now passed him once more with ease) to the road he was jogging adjacent to. A shiny and sleek looking Crown Victoria purred softly beside him. Raising an eyebrow, Chuck watched the driver's window roll down.

"I could hear your pathetic whining all the way on the 5 freeway, numb nuts."

A billow of smoke blew out of the interior of the car and into Chuck's irritated face. Sniveling weakly, Chuck hacked away at the diluted cigar smoke.

"I thought you said that smoking was hazardous to your health?" Chuck coughed, covering his mouth with his arm.

The man inside the car took a long drag of his expensive cigar and then inspected it with great care. "It's different, Bartowski. These are victory cigars…"

"V-victory cigars?" Chuck repeated, his eyes watered from the smoke.

"Yup, I got them as a gift for being promoted to Colonel."

"From who?"

Casey flashed a big grin, "From me to me!"

Chuck rolled his eyes, "How thoughtful."

Abruptly, the Vic revved her engine and left Chuck in the dust. Not before he heard the roar of the pistons pumping away did Casey yell, "You have four more miles left until you reach your destination. Don't you dare stop!"

When the Vic was out of sight, Chuck cursed out loud. This was unbearable! First off, Devon woke him up at five in the morning, and fed him some disgusting concoction of raw eggs and god knows what else. He almost threw up, in fact, (Chuck scrunched up his nose in foul recollection) he did. After the first mile.

"T-this is just all shades of wrong…"

Once he managed to overcome the small incline, Chuck sucked in a breath of cold morning air. The sun had risen from its depths from behind the Foothill Mountains. Shielding his eyes with one arm, Chuck prayed that somehow, the new Intersect in his brain would activate and do the work for him. Pumping his arms erratically, he continued his slow jog down the side walk, keeping a wary eye on Devon, who was merely a speck in front of him.

"Come on, stupid Intersect!" Chuck chastised the computer, "Flash! That's all I'm asking for, just flash!!!"

His anger quickly dissipated once he found his second wind. The adrenaline kicked in and Chuck sped down the hill like he had caught on fire. Each breath he took became lighter and less labored; he scrutinized the way Devon ran, his form and pure determination. Before he had a chance to react, something clicked in his brain and multiple images imprinted themselves in his subconscious. Lacking any control, the odd sensation returned and took over Chuck's body. At once, his legs started to move quicker. His knees rose in perfect intervals while his arms propelled him faster and faster until he caught up to Devon.

Casting an impressed, if not, shocked expression, over his shoulder, Devon watched as his wife's brother blew through the last quarter mile like it was nothing. Chuck was approaching him rapidly, and before he knew it, Chuck had passed him without a second glance.

"Hey, Chuck!" Devon yelled breathlessly, "Way to go man!" He pumped his fist into the air in a triumphant gesture.

Chuck kept his head down while his jog progressively turned into a sprint. Focusing on completing his sole mission, Chuck let nothing disturb his trance. It was weird though, the oddest sensation he had ever felt in his life. The way the Intersect possessed him like a puppet master to its marionette. Of course, he could still think clearly, he still remained in complete control of his brain. The only difference was that it felt like unbreakable mental strings were attached to his arms and legs, dictating him and telling him—no making him do whatever was updated into his brain.

Now with this unlimited power at his disposal, Chuck jetted down the streets of Burbank like a gold medalist at the Olympics. Grinding his teeth together once he could feel the effects of the Intersect lessening, Chuck's sprint slowed into a steady jog and then declined to a slow walk and finally he stopped.

Doubling over, but somehow still managing to stay on his feet, Chuck held his chest and gasped for air. He panted for the whole five minutes it took Devon to catch up to him. Feeling beads of sweat drip down his face and neck, Chuck let this moment of solace be the time that he would recuperate from the energy stolen by the Intersect's flash.

Even Devon stopped and breathed labored breaths. He unslung the backpack that he had on his shoulders and pulled out two bottles of water and a set of towels.

"Chuck, here's some H20 bro!"

Chuck's manipulated reactions allowed him to catch the drink thrown at him. Thankful that Devon came prepared; Chuck opened the bottle of water and downed the drink in a matter of gulps.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, there Chuck!" Devon yelled at him concerned, "Slow down there buddy, you're going to drown yourself if you don't drink it slow."

Chuck went from chugging the water to taking precarious sips until ever last drop was gone. As the cool fluid slid down his inflamed throat, the young man grabbed the offered towel by Devon and dried his face off from all of the excess sweat. Once he deemed himself dry, he limped over to any empty dirt patch and rung out the sweat that acclimated in the towel.

Chuck's mouth curved in disgust, "That's not right."

A light pat on the shoulder shook Chuck from is meaningless task. He turned around and saw Devon, who looked as though he could run another eight miles, and he pointed just ahead of the both of them.

"We made it, Chuck!"

Sighing a breath of relief, Chuck glanced up to see where all of the running had them end up. He squinted to read the large sign that hung up in patriotic-colored block letters on the front of the building.

"Fitness USA?" Chuck read out loud in horror.

"Yep," Devon nodded and then pushed a much unmotivated brother-in-law to the entrance.

* * *

When Chuck and Devon entered the gym, the two looked around the modern training center, one in awe, the other in dread. Tossing a towel over his shoulder, Devon gravitated towards the front desk with a handsome smile plastered to his face.

"Excuse me, but my friend and I are supposed to have an appointment here today?"

Sitting cross-legged on a swivel chair, a woman held the newest People Magazine in her hands, obscuring her face from behind the open pages. Bobbing her head to the distracting music which blared out of her headphones, she ignored Devon's calm demeanor. Arching an eyebrow, and sending Chuck a questioning glance (Chuck just shrugged his shoulders helplessly) Devon impatiently grabbed a hold of the magazine and lifted it away from the woman's reach.

A pair of fog colored eyes glared unappreciatively at him. The woman was in her late 20's or early 30's, with brown hair put up in a messy bun; she yanked out her ear buds and turned her I-pod off with great distain.

"Yes?"

Taken aback at her rude tone, Devon straightened up his back and confidently asked, "Hi, I'm Devon Woodcomb and this is my friend, Chuck Bartowski. We are supposed to have a training session here today."

Completely disregarding what Devon had said, the woman's eyes darted to Chuck. Her mouth curved into a small smirk and she handed him a clipboard with a registration form attached to it.

"You must be Agent Charles Carmichael right?" She asked while tossing him a pen.

Chuck fumbled with catching the pen. He began to fill out the form while stealing a startled glance at the receptionist. "Y-you know me?"

"Of course I do, the whole CIA knows who you are, Charlie."

"You're CIA?!" Chuck and Devon exclaimed in unison. Thank god that the gym seemed to be unoccupied.

"Not really what you'd call "CIA," but yeah, it's the gist of it." She told him and then rose from her chair and reached over the counter to shake hands with him. "Agent Samantha Wesson: Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

Chuck nodded and shook her hand. Making eye contact with her once more, the familiar hypnotic awareness that he had grown accustomed to for the better part of the last couple of years had returned with a vengeance. It was the first "data flash" that the Intersect had retrieved since its re-upload into its new vessel. A stream of high resolution images passed before Chuck's eyes and downloaded them in his brain. One interesting piece of information that he caught early in the flash was that the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division can be used as an acronym as SHIELD; it was a specialized branch of the CIA created primarily to battle the Ring and its underlings. Fulcrum's name appeared along with something called HYDRA and Starkwood. Nothing else could be identified in the flash, so Chuck mentally broke his concentration from the Intersect's hold on him. Vision still blurry with the classified documents burned onto his retinas, Chuck shook his head and everything returned to normal.

Agent Wesson cocked her head to the side and stared at Chuck with honest interest. Devon stood next to him, a confused frown placed on his lips.

"Oh, I probably just freaked you out with that long as hell name didn't I, Charlie?" She asked sweetly, almost like she was covering his flash from Devon's knowledge. She let go of his hand and hopped over the desk, "Sorry about that," She laughed, "I keep forgetting that we are using the acronym now. It's just called SHIELD, and since I'm technically not on the clock right now, you can just call me Sam."

Unable to think of anything to say, Chuck nodded again. For some reason, he couldn't figure out how to interrupt her constant rambling. And when the effects of the Intersect began to fade from his mind, Chuck wordlessly went back to filling out the informational sheet.

"So, I can only assume that you don't work for the government?" Sam interrogated Devon out of the blue.

Caught off guard, Captain Awesome felt the abnormality of the conversation and tried to retreat from where it was headed, "Well, not exactly." He coughed a bit and looked the other way, "I'm more or less a confident for Chuck here."

"Aw, don't be so stingy!" Said Sam playfully, "I'm only just kidding. I don't care if you're CIA, M16, or Al Qaeda…." She stopped in midsentence and corrected herself, "I retract my last statement. I don't approve of terrorists."

Chuck listened to the conversation even though his mind was more focused on completing the paper before him; Agent Wesson was a scary individual. Kind of off, maybe batty even. Chuck snorted while he signed his name and dated the bottom of the page.

"Hey, uh, Sammy?" Chuck signaled that he was done and handed the clipboard back to her.

Ripping the clipboard from Chuck's open hands, Sam sent him a chilling stare; the look of death. "Thanks, and don't you ever call me Sammy."

Chuck held his hands up in surrender, "Ok, sorry! My bad!"

After his apology, her cold eyes lightened up immediately. She dropped the clipboard onto the empty desk and clapped her hands together excitedly. "Awesome, so let's get you going Charlie!"

"Oh, ok, where?"

Sam's smile faded a bit, "….Hold on let me check."

Chuck and Devon both looked at each other and sighed. Spinning around on the desk, the SHIELD agent bent over and pulled out a laminated paper that listed the times of all the classes. She trailed her finger down the list and then found what she was looking for. Casting the list off somewhere, Sam spun back around and faced the two befuddled men.

"You have yoga first, Agent Carmichael," she divulged in her best commanding voice.

"Yoga?" Chuck mused in a surprised tone, "Ok, got it. Where do I go?"

Using her thumb to signal the direction, Sam pointed just down the hall, "Go down there, it's to your right; room 024. Have fun."

Chuck nodded and flipped the towel over his shoulder and walked down the carpeted hall. He took one more step before looking over his shoulder and seeing Devon lagging behind. Furrowing his eyebrows in perplexity, Chuck called to him, "Devon, aren't you coming?"

Rocking on his heels, Devon shook his head, "Sorry Chuck, this is where we part, man. I gotta get back to your sister like now. She doesn't know that I left with you this morning and I don't want to attract any unnecessary attention."

Chuck now understood why he was being left alone, and so he just nodded in silent affirmation, "See ya, Devon."

Devon waved goodbye and then gave him the thumbs up, "Kick some ass, bro! Don't let the yoga instructor give you a hard time, ok?"

"I'll be sure not to," Chuck laughed and watched his brother-in-law exit the gym.

Turning around, he walked down the gym's hallway until he came across room 024. Taking a deep breath, Chuck opened the door and stepped inside.

* * *

The inside of the yoga room was empty. Chuck half-heartedly walked to the center and surveyed the room's interior. It was a fairly small room. Just large enough for a class of about ten at most. Two black mats were lying on the floor, both facing each other. Surrounding the outskirts of the room was a trail of unlit stress reliever candles. Setting his towel down on what he could only guess was his mat, Chuck waited anxiously for his instructor.

Suddenly, the backdoor of the classroom creaked open. Chuck's ears perked up and he angled his head to see who was coming to teach him the art of relaxation. _Please not a guy, please not a guy!_

A pair of deep blue eyes jeered happily once they found Chuck standing at the center of the room. Putting her hair up in a high ponytail, his trainer ambled through the room gracefully. Smiling beautifully, she tapped lightly on the spy's shoulder and waited for him to discern her identity.

"Chuck?"

Elated brown eyes grew larger once he identified the striking woman in front of him. His nervous smile spread into a stunning grin; he reached for her hand and rubbed it slowly.

"Sarah?" He said in a wondrous tone, "You're my yoga instructor?"

Winking at him seductively, Sarah Walker pulled her hand away from Chuck's. She pecked her boyfriend once on the cheek and then backed away.

"You got a problem with that, Bartowski?" She asked with an eyebrow raised. "If you want, I can always go get Casey to teach you about your calm center?"

"Yeah, that's funny. I think I rather live to see another day, but that's just me," Chuck laughed and playfully strutted forward and took a hold of Sarah around her slim waist. He spun her around until her back was pressed firmly against his front. "Besides, that would mean I couldn't practice switching positions with you…I was really excited actually about testing my flexibility with you too."

Even though he couldn't see her face, Chuck knew he got Sarah to blush madly. He nuzzled her neck and planted a loving nip on her jaw line. Sarah closed her eyes momentarily, resisting the urge to tackle Chuck to the ground and violently strip him down to nothing. Placing her hand on Chuck's cheek, Sarah noticed that he hadn't been shaving for the past several days. She caressed his face and let the prickling facial hair run through her fingers. Chuck's arms tightened around her hips as she touched him softly. She could hear him sigh happily and then bury his head in her shoulder. Sarah giggled at the tickling sensation of his scruff grazing against his bare skin.

"Chuck, I think we have to start class now."

Still burying his head in the nape of her neck, Chuck shook his head rapidly. Then he let out a muffled, "No."

Using her spy moves to her advantage, Sarah easily broke out of Chuck's weakened hold. Her face was still red from their intimacy from before, and Chuck noticed. His face lit up in the old Bartowski grin, his eyes glinted defiantly.

"You're acting like a child, Chuck. Just go to your mat and calm yourself before I decide to really go get Casey instead."

"You're such a buzz kill Sarah," he whined and stuck out his tongue immaturely. Shuffling his feet over to where his mat lay, Chuck dropped to the ground and gave her a Now-you're-the-one-wasting-time glance.

"Treading on thin ice, Bartowski," Sarah warned her partner.

Chuck rolled his eyes and yanked off both of his Chuck converse shoes. He watched the female spy glide across the circumference of the room, holding a lit match in her petite fingers. She then began to light each purple candle until the entire room smelt of lavender. Twirling the remains of the burnt down match between her fingers, Sarah blew out the dying flame.

"So," Chuck interrupted the momentary silence, "what's the deal with Fitness USA? It's pretty obvious that it's run by the CIA or NSA."

Tossing the match into a wastebasket by the entrance of the room, Sarah put her hands on her hip and sighed. "The Orange Orange was compromised when that Ring agent infiltrated it last week. That meant that the Castle had to be relocated and since you got re-Intersected, the General decided to move it to a place of her choosing. It made things easier since you and Casey quit the Buy More."

"You work here then?"

Sarah casted Chuck a small smile before she sat crissed-crossed on the black mat opposite of him. The two spies assessed each other for a second or two without a word. Sarah then brushed away a stray bang that fell onto her forehead.

"As my cover and new assignment, yes I do work here."

"I get the cover part. I gotta say though, good job hunting Miss Walker," Chuck said cheekily. "But what is the new assignment? Beckman doesn't know about my new upgrade does she?"

"Oh no of course not, Chuck." Sarah quelled his fears with a wave of her hand, "Beckman actually thinks that since you want to be an analyst for the CIA (with or without the Intersect), you need the standard training. Thankfully, Casey and I figured out how we could use her obliviousness to our advantage. Because the new Intersect takes a larger toll on your body than the original one did, we've decided to get you in shape so you can take anything that an enemy could dish out in a real conflict."

Realization passed before Chuck's face. He nodded in understanding and stretched his legs out on the mat. "Having Devon get me to run all the way here was the first part of the training, right?"

As Sarah parted her legs in the beginnings of the splits, she raised her head and looked at Chuck like he was crazy, "He made you run from the apartments all the way here?"

"Yes, and Casey made sure that I couldn't stop either…" Chuck grumbled spitefully.

"So you're telling me that you, Charles Irving Bartowski, just ran for eight miles non-stop?"

Chuck scratched the side of his nose nonchalantly, "I guess so…it wasn't so bad."

"That's amazing Chuck!" Sarah practically shouted, her blue eyes sparkled brightly.

"Well truthfully, I can't take all the credit…" Chuck announced rather quietly. Almost shamefully.

Legs full parted, Sarah reached for both feet with her hands. She looked up at him in a perplexed manner, "What do you mean?"

"Toward the end of the run, to put it lightly, I was about to die. Somehow the Intersect knew that I was running low on energy and it made me force a flash. I never felt anything like it before, not even when I Kung Fu'd those Ring spies did I feel like this. It was pure—"Chuck ran his hand through his curly hair once and then stared at his sweat-soaked palm in awe, "Adrenaline. Like my whole body got rejuvenated or something. My arms and legs just started going insanely fast and I even passed Devon in a split second."

Sarah kept her head down, stretching her body out while Chuck relived his newest Intersect adventure. She really didn't know what to make of it. Any of it. To her, it seemed like Chuck was becoming like some superhero that he would read in his comic books. Her mind instantly saw the face of the future Superman, defender of Earth. _Faster than a speeding bullet, more powerful than a locomotive, able to leap buildings in a single bound. Look up! In the sky, it's a bird, it's a plane, no, it's---?!_

"Chuck, are you sure that everything is ok with the new Intersect?" She asked him uneasily and then rose back into a normal sitting position. "Maybe you should get it examined by your father? He might be able to explain the new updates better than any of us can."

Chuck shook his head, "No way. Didn't you remember what my Dad said after we told him of my little incident? He may have been the one who reconfigured the Intersect's main features and upgraded it, but he wasn't in on what they actually did. For now, all I can do is try and control it." Chuck's self-determination and resolve stunned Sarah. Maybe the Intersect not only affected his body, but his personality also?

"I understand," Sarah agreed and let the conversation go. "Let's give the conversation a rest, ok? Right now, we need to get you focused and ready for your next session."

Spreading out his legs, and groaning a bit when the muscles in his body didn't feel like extending to their fullest extent, Chuck grabbed a hold of Sarah's hands and the both of them stretched each other's legs and arms.

"I have another session?" Chuck asked in pain, "What is it?"

Sarah let go of Chuck's wrists and sat up on her knees. Stretching her arm over her chest, she urged Chuck to do the same. "You are going to spar…..with Casey."

* * *

Samantha Wesson went back to her previous position once Agent Carmichael found his way to the yoga room. She turned on her I-pod and placed her headphones back in her ears, tapping away to the beat of the song. Sam reached over and found where she left off on the latest issue of People and started to marvel over the hot actors and actresses; she propped one foot on the desk and hummed away to the next song on her playlist.

"I can still hear the voices singing, I can hear them say~!" She gasped when she hit the high note and barely managed to hold it, "Carry on my wayward son! There will be peace when you are done! Lay your weary head to rest, don't you cry no more!"

As the second instrumental began to play, the sliding glass doors at the entrance slid open and a new arrival entered the gym. Still highly enthralled with the latest rumors on Lindsay Lohan and if she was gay or straight or maybe even a little bi-curious, Sam ignored the man that was waiting impatiently at the front counter.

"Ahem," The man grunted.

Sam flipped the page, a little disappointed by all of the article's hype but no payoff. When Carry on My Wayward Son ended, a new song enveloped her ears and she started to tonelessly sing with the lyrics.

"I wanna girl with a mind like a diamond…"

Now extremely upset and bent on slapping the receptionist in the face with the damn magazine to get her attention, the man lit up his last cigar and popped into his mouth. It was all he could do before unleashing ever ounce of pent up angry on the woman.

"I wanna girl with a short skirt and a longggggggg, longggggggggggg…….jacket!" She sang and flipped the page again. This time she stopped humming to the song and sniffed the air. Sam's eyes turned into tiny slits and she rolled up the trashy magazine, prepared to beat the living hell out of someone.

Taking a long drag out of the cigar, the man looked down at his watch. It read just after ten in the morning. He needed to change in the locker room quickly if he was going to have a chance to face the nerd in a sparring match.

Once the smoker let out a breath of tobacco induced smoke from his lips, Sam decided to strike. Leaping to the desk, she used the magazine as a weapon and struck the man in the side of the face.

"What the hell?" the man screamed angrily as he was being beat by a wad of paper.

"Don't fucking smoke inside of a public establishment, you hippie! Can't you read the 'don't smoke sign'? Or are you blind too?"

Grabbing the paper in a vice-like grip, the man sat down his burning cigar on the counter and glared at Sam. His hard blue eyes dialed in on her grey ones and she instantly backed down.

"Oh god, you're Colonel John Casey, aren't you?" She asked weakly.

Casey growled and released the SHIELD agent's wrist. She rubbed her sore appendage embarrassedly, "Chuck Bartowski and Sarah Walker are here correct?"

"Of course, Charlie just ended his first yoga session with Agent Walker about five minutes ago. She is helping him get ready for the sparring match. The uh, locker room is down that hall and to your left. Sorry about attacking you there, I didn't mean to honestly. I just can't stand rude people. Um, not like I'm accusing you of being rude or anything, but well yeah I am. You know smoking can cause cancer? I learned that like in US history….my junior year in high school."

Balling his fist up in irrevocable rage, Casey kept his eyes closed and chose to ignore whatever was spilling out of the receptionist's mouth. She was worst than Bartowski, she doesn't know when to shut up! Finding his calm center, John stomped through the hallway and located the locker room. He swung open the door and prepared himself to fight Chuck Bartowski.

* * *

At the center of the ring, Agent Wesson waited for the two spies to come out of the locker room and get to their respective corners. Once she saw Agent Walker come out of the women's locker room, clad in a pair of blue work out shorts and a grey tank top, she knew that Charlie and the Colonel wouldn't be far behind.

"Are they almost ready yet?" Sam asked Sarah, but it came out as a whine.

Sarah sent her an odd look and nodded, "Chuck should be out in a minute, Casey, well he might be praying to the infallible Ronald Reagan right now….so…"

Now it was Sam who returned the confused look. But she knew it was definitely not her place to ask. The two women lingered there in silence until the men entered the arena. The tension in the air became palpable almost at once.

"Do I really need to embarrass myself like this?" Chuck said to no one in particular.

Casey stood beside him and rolled his eyes, "I rather fight Chuck Liddell than Bartowski here. Especially if he's going to be on his period today."

Chuck narrowed his eyes and scoffed, "Good one, Casey, haven't heard that one before."

"Wow, some anger there Chuckles!" Exclaimed Casey as he mockingly feigned surprise, "Maybe you will be able to summon the willpower to not get your ass handed to you?"

Chuck's eyes darkened at Casey's taunts, allowing a growing bubble of anxiety sift throughout his body.

"You two, pipe the fuck down," Sam warned them both, but mostly Casey. "I don't want a fight to break out before we even get you to in the ring. Got it?"

"Got it," Chuck answered in monotone. Casey just grunted as response.

Clasping her hands together, Agent Wesson smiled excitedly, "Okay boys, here's how things are going to go. The two of you will be set in the ring like any other sparring match, and then I blow the whistle and I'll let you go, any questions?"

"Yeah, I have one," Chuck raised his hand.

"This isn't school, moron," Casey smirked under his breath.

"No, it's ok," Sam said and sent Casey a chilling look. Her demeanor changed dramatically. "Charlie, what was your question?"

"Is this like a fight to the death kind of thing, or last man standing?"

"Isn't that like the same thing?" asked Sam confusedly.

"Does it matter?"

"Its first one to cry Uncle aka last man standing I guess." Sam shrugged indifferently. "It's not my job to judge who wins; I'm just supposed to assess the Intersect and its capabilities."

Chuck turned to Sam, his mouth agape, "You know that I'm the Intersect?!"

Sarah put a hand on his shoulder to calm him down, "Yes she does. Just trust her, Chuck, I do."

"Fine," Chuck managed to say and then made his way to the arena. "Let's get this over with."

* * *

Casey leaned against the ropes of the training ring, fully scrutinizing his adversary. It was hard to do, because by just looking at Chuck Bartowski, you would see he was a weak individual. And that right there was his greatest strength; he was the underdog. Casey cracked his knuckles as soon as Sarah gave Chuck a good luck kiss. He crinkled his nose and then pushed off the rubbery ropes and met Chuck at the center. Agent Wesson stood there, smiling like a bigger idiot than even Bartowski could possibly be.

"So, let's get ready to rumble right?" Sam joked.

"Go away and do your job," Casey ordered in a gruff voice. Chuck just nodded for her to listen to him.

"Yes, Colonel Sir, I understand," She mock saluted and skipped off of the arena platform. Once she was standing beside Sarah in the bleachers, she made a coughing noise and then shouted, "Ding, Ding!!!!!"

Almost at once, Casey delivered the first hit of the fight. Chuck skittishly waited to be attacked; his eyes were watering in fear for his life. Casey put up his fists and threw a short right jab, brandishing the kid in the face. Now with a red cheek, Chuck looked younger than ever. He continued to stand there, taking blow after blow Casey would ream out. After a few minutes, when Chuck was bleeding and a little bruised up, Casey even got a little bored…and tired.

"Come on, Bartowski, fight back! What happened to your superpowers?"

Sighing irately, Casey launched forward for another attack. Maybe a harder punch to the gut would get the kid to react. Staring into Chuck's brown eyes, Casey through the punch, and wished that he might've held up on it. Almost like clockwork, the light in Chuck's eyes dimmed to a controlled dark hue. He had flashed. And in the nick of time too. Before the punch connected with his stomach, Chuck smiled confidently and dashed forward, dodging the punch by an inch or so. Sweeping his leg out in a wide, but graceful arc, Chuck managed to connect with Casey's ankles, throwing the bigger man off balance. Without even realizing what was happening, Casey found himself tossed on to his back, sucking in a deep breath of oxygen; he had the wind knocked out of him. Before the tunnel vision had impaired him, Casey rolled away from Chuck's incoming kick to the ribs.

"He's lucky that Charlie missed him," Sam commented as she took down notes on a pad of paper, "If he didn't get out of the way on that one, he'd have a couple of broken ribs."

For some reason, Chuck lagged back and waited for Casey to stand up and get into a ready position. Casey gave him a pissed look for the pathetic gesture and he let his anger take control of his body. Chuck merely rolled his eyes once he saw the familiar attack come at him. Bringing his leg out to kick the kid in the side of the shin, Casey feigned that he was going for the punch again. Hands behind his back, Chuck politely waited until Casey's foot stabbed at him. With ease, he used his opposite foot to parry Casey's and back and forth the foot fencing commenced.

"He really knows what he's doing. The kid is a strategic genius, and that's definitely not the Intersect's doing."

Sarah took her eyes off the fight for a brief time and stared at the woman next to her, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, "Sam bit on the cap of her pen in thought, "that the Intersect supplies Charlie with the force and power to defeat almost anyone. But he has control over his mind, so he can watch and asses each and every one of Colonel Casey's move. Then he adapts to them quicker than any of us could, and uses them against him. Understand, now Agent Walker?"

Sarah nodded and gasped when Chuck parried one last of Casey's foot jabs and then interchanged his other foot that was used as balance to sideswipe Casey back on the floor again. Grimacing, Sarah whispered, "Chuck's just playing with him, isn't he? He has this whole fight planned out like a chess match…or a video game."

Chuck receded again once Casey was down for the count. He let his arms linger by his sides, still unused, deeply angering Casey that he hadn't even bothered to throw a single punch yet.

"He's also combining different techniques when fighting." Sam said and wrote her thoughts down, "He's seen you fight, and now he's fully analyzing the Colonel's moves. Once the Intersect downloads the fighting style, I'm confident that Charlie can learn to assimilate and fight like you, or him, and even incorporate his own style…he'd be invincible that's for sure. But there is one little problem…."

Casey sucked in a deep breath and launched his final assault; a flurry of punches and kicks, spins and not so graceful moves all were targeting his adversary. Seeing that things were going to get a smidgen more difficult, Chuck brought his arms up and blocked the incoming blows to the face. On the defensive, he kept waiting until Casey would give the go-ahead attack. Arching back a strong right leg, Casey delivered a powerful side kick, aimed straight for Chuck's noggin. Grinning like a maniac, Chuck dipped his head, missing Casey's bone crushing kick by inches.

"Sorry, big guy, but you missed me by this much."Chuck teased.

Raising his leg up, Chuck made use of a free hit, and kneed Casey in the stomach. Gasping for breath, he took several steps back from his opponent. Holding his stomach and trying to not to throw up, Casey stood stagnate and hoped that Chuck would come for him. Cocking his head to the side like and innocent child, Chuck stared at Casey with interest. It wasn't the normal Chuck Bartowski look. His back was fully erect; it commanded perfect posture and confidence. His eyes were glittering darkly, thirstier than ever. No, Casey decided, no this wasn't the kid at all. The Intersect was at the helm now.

"What if Chuck tries to kill him?" Sarah shouted to the SHIELD agent with worry.

"Don't bother; no one's going to die. Not unless you want to step in and save your partner." Sam made another annotation on her paper and continued to watch the brawl, and then she added, "Charlie is losing it; his self control I mean. That's his weakness. If he lets the Intersect rule over him, all of those things I told you about his strategy? Gone, out of the window."

Sarah's attention left Sam's half focused ramblings, and returned to the fight. Casey was doing all right again; he and Chuck were back to the same dance that they had played for the majority of the fight. And nothing different was coming from Chuck. Now Sarah could see it; the weakness. Just if Casey could, he could end the fight now.

Then Chuck threw his first punch of the fight. A solid uppercut to the underside of Casey's jaw. It connected and threw the NSA agent up into the air, allowing Chuck reclaim some lost control and to deliver the last assault. It went by so quickly, Sarah and even Sam watched in complete shock. Chuck threw himself on his hands and kicked up his feet in a swift handstand motion. In one fluid attack, he crouched both feet to his chest and then kicked with all his might. The double kick nailed Casey in the lower abdomen, successfully knocking him down for the count. As soon as Casey fell onto his back for that final time, Chuck finished his front hand spring, landing gracefully on his feet, a satisfying smirk on his face.

"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten!" Sam put down her pen and paper and cheered, "We got ourselves a knock out ladies and gentlemen!"

Jumping off the bleachers, with Sarah in tow, Sam hopped into the arena and inspected the loser's body. She prodded his face with her index finger which had him emit a terribly weak growl. Sarah on the other hand, nervously approached the winner of the fight. Chuck was lost in a hypnotic trance, staring solely at Casey's unmoving body. Like he couldn't believe what he had done.

"Chuck?" Sarah asked timidly.

Chuck blinked and for a moment, Sarah could see a lighter brown filter from behind those foreign eyes.

"Sarah?" asked Chuck exhaustedly.

Sarah heard Chuck call her and she smiled warmly. "Yes, what is it?"

"Catch me when I fall, okay?"

"Catch me when you---?" Sarah repeated confusedly, "What are you talking about?"

Letting his eyes roll in the back of his head, Chuck's knees buckled beneath him and he collapsed to the ground with a loud thud. Sarah and Sam winced.

"Good, fight." Sam said at last and grinned happily in Sarah's direction, "I'll go get the first aid kit, looks like they need it."

* * *

End Chapter One

An: Everyone went Kung Fu fighting! Those cats were fast as lightining! Heh, I cant get that song out of my head. Chuck me....

Next Chapter: The Ten Rings


	2. The Ten Rings Part I

**AN: OMG thanks so much for the reviews!!! I'm so glad that this fic is so well received by the Chuck fans! It took me like a week, but here's the next chapter. Its significantly shorter than #1, but its more of an interlude and Chara chapter than anything. I was focusing my attention more on my other story, Vs the Out of Body Experience if anyone wants to know. ;) Anyways, this is Part I of II parts in the Ten Rings. As this story progresses, it will devel further into the Marvel universe if anyone cares. Not much though, just SHIELD and small references and stuff. If you have any questions on comic stuff, just send me a PM and i'll answer any questions. _Reviews will be much appreciated please!!!!!!!_**

* * *

Chapter Two: The Ten Rings Part I

Expecting to still be lying on top of the hard arena surface, Chuck was pleasantly surprised to find himself comfortably situated upon an expensive leather couch. His right arm dangled at the side of the sofa, twitching each time he inhaled through his slightly parted mouth. A dull, but present pain throbbed in several places on his body, one being his hand. Still having his eyes closed while lost in a half-conscious state, Chuck's chest rose up and down slowly until his heart beat and breathing became in sync.

Once the aching from his hand had turned for the worse, Chuck moaned in his sleep, and moved his injured appendage to a more comfortable spot. It rested painfully on his stomach, several digits burned with a hot intensity that turned Chuck's peaceful nap into a restless nightmare. He tossed and turned on the couch, eyebrows drawing inward in an upset expression, and bared his teeth after the constant stabs of pain escalated into something far nastier. Whatever drugs that had been injected into his system while he was under had begun to wear off. A louder moan emitted from the back of his throat.

* * *

Back at the front desk, Samantha Wesson was typing her standard Intel report. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she deftly went over her notes, glancing back and forth to make sure that she transferred the data correctly. The constant tapping noise from the keyboard died off once she had finished her last sentence. Receding her hands backwards, the SHIELD agent sighed a breath of relief; she pushed her swivel chair with her feet, sending her flying to the other side of the desk. Spinning the chair around and around, she wasted time waiting for the printer to print out the hard copy.

"What are you doing?"

Pulling her knees inward in attempt to spin the chair around faster, Sam rotated in her seat slowly until she was face to face with the female spy. He cheeks were flushed red from being caught messing around.

"I-I uh, was waiting for the printer," she explained. Getting up from her chair, Sam jetted over to the printer and retrieved her copy of her latest paper. "What do you want, Agent Walker? Is Charlie awake yet?"

Sarah stood in the center of the room and shook her head, "No, Chuck's still asleep. It's been three hours; shouldn't he have woken up by now?"

Scanning over the pages of the report, Sam picked up a pen and signed her name at the bottom along with the date. Looking up, she noticed that Sarah was out of her gym close and now dressed in a pair of stonewashed jeans and a purple halter top; her hair was down also. Setting down the paper and pen, Sam cracked her knuckles and said in a very careful voice, "Even though Agent Carmichael had beat Colonel Casey, he still was never properly trained to handle the extensive physical strain that the Intersect had him absorb. Casey knocked him around pretty good before the Intersect had even been activated too, and it resulted in some minimal injuries." Snapping out of her professional tone, she added humorously, "Anyways, I gave Charlie enough pain relievers to send him into a mini medicated coma. You know, He's pretty lanky for a superspy…"

Agreeing with what Sam had said, Sarah only nodded and took a seat in one of the waiting chairs. She folded her hands over her lap and lowered her gaze at the dark carpet floor. Her mind still reeled from what she had seen Chuck do. Ever since the wedding, it felt as though she had been transported into another dimension. One where Bryce Larkin was dead, Chuck was a super agent, and she wanted nothing to do with the spy world any longer. All Sarah wanted was to be normal. And now she was faced with the terrifying thought that maybe Chuck had been destined to become the government's number one secret weapon all along? If so, then their roles had been reversed. Sarah's dream of normalcy and Chuck's fate of becoming a spy had fallen on the other ends of the spectrum. Yet, neither of them knew how the other one felt on the issue. This was because both of them wouldn't dare tell.

A very sore and irritated John Casey (who was holding an icepack against his chin) limped tiredly into the main entrance, stealing a perturbed glance at his somber partner and then grunting just loud enough to get her attention. Shifting the ice from the bottom of his chin, Casey held the freezing bag in his hand and took a seat next to Sarah. She was still concentrating on the floor, Casey noticed. He leaned back in the armchair and stared at the ceiling fan; it whirled around and around like a propeller revolving around a plane.

"Chuck's up," He mentioned in a quiet voice.

Snapping Sarah from her reverie, she bounded to her feet and immediately made her attempt to go to Chuck. But Casey was quicker, even beaten and bruised; the Colonel sat up and blocked the young woman from escaping. She gave him a questioning look. He returned it with concerned, but hard eyes. Defeated, she sat back down.

"Chuck's up," he repeated slowly, "but he's in a lot of pain. I could hardly sleep myself with him moaning and groaning for the last ten minutes. He looks like hell."

"Then why won't you let me see him?" Sarah asked angrily.

"I didn't forbid you from going to see your boyfriend, Walker." Casey said defensively, "I just wanted to warn you beforehand that the Intersect did a real number on him. From what I could see, Bartowski broke several fingers in his right hand, and may have done some damage to a ligament or two in his legs. Who knows about the internal injuries…?"

"We might need to take him to the hospital then?" She sighed.

"Oh, you need a doctor?" Sam asked interestedly. It was the first time she engaged herself in the conversation.

"You're not a doctor," Casey sneered at her.

Exiting from the front desk, Samantha held a shiny silver box with a large navy blue colored cross stamped across the top. She brought it up for Sarah and Casey to see, both raising speculative eyebrows. Flashing a smile that could light a stadium, she leaped toward the spies and handed them the medical kit.

"I am not a doctor, this is true," she said, nodding as she spoke, "but I still have this spiffy little first aid kit that can be just as effective as any doctor could be."

Not fully comprehending the significance of what a seemingly ordinary first aid kit could do to help Chuck heal, Sarah's lip tugged down into a perplexed frown. Casey mirrored her exactly.

"What will first aid do to help set Chuck's bones, or cure any of his wounds that are infected?" Sarah inquired harshly.

Taken back by her forceful tone, Sam held the case to her face and gently tapped on the logo of the maker with her index finger. It bold lettering, the label read: Stark Industries.

"The great thing about working for SHIELD is the health benefits," Sam joked lightly and handed the case over to Sarah who examined it thoroughly, "If you didn't know, Stark Industries is one of our major sponsors and providers, if not the biggest. It's really cool because some of the stuff in here incorporates the new Arc Reactor technology that the public have no knowledge about---"

"This is a SI product?" said Casey cut in.

"---So whatever is wrong with Chuck, this case will have everything we need to help him?"

Sam itched the side of her cheek and nodded, "Yes. I already used some of the pain relievers encased in there just after he fainted. They're fast acting and can temporarily cure almost any injury for a set period of time. That's why he's probably up now. When it wears off, it wears off with a vengeance." And for the first time since they've met, Sam laughed spitefully, "It's just one of the many side-effects of governmental technology, huh? Nothing's absolute."

Confused by her sudden sarcasm, Sarah thanked her for the kit and along with Casey, went to go see Chuck.

* * *

The small flame that was the pain in his hand had raged into a burning inferno. Not only were his fingers caught aflame, but so were his thighs, ankles, ribs and feet. Each flared up simultaneously, getting Chuck to graduate from his constant incoherent moaning to a strangled howl of pain. He whipped his head back and forth, succumbing to the fever of whatever sickness plagued him. Tears sat in the corners of his closed eyes, and from that moment on, Chuck knew that this unbearable hurt couldn't be attributed towards mere fatigue.

"God, ah, S-Sarah--!" He cried out, thrashing uncontrollably on the sofa. "H-he-help, please…"

His breathing became hitched and uneven as the beating of his heart sped up rapidly. Hearing the pounding of blood pump through his ears, Chuck struggled to sit himself up and open his eyes. When he understood that it was near impossible to accomplish the simple of tasks, he resorted to weathering it out.

_What the hell is going on?_ Screamed Chuck internally, his mind felt heavier all the sudden. It was like he was about to flash on something. _This cannot be good._

Suddenly, the pain had all but vanished. Every inflamed body part had been quenched. The thumping in his heart slowed down until his pulse returned to normal, and of course, the throbbing in his brain (and the flashing sensation) faded away. More than a little confused, and slightly frightened by these turn of events, Chuck timidly opened one eye, not knowing what to expect. The blurry vision that impaired Chuck's sight corrected itself. He blinked several times, making sure that what—or who he saw was in fact real and not some figment of his imagination, or the Intersect's trick. Lifting his arm up, he grasped at thin air, desperate to touch the angelic figure before him.

A dreamy smile spread across Chuck's face, and feeling more confident, he slowly let his other eye slide open. A colder hand held his warmer one and rubbed it gently. Chuck lifted his body up and touched the side of her face. Convinced that this was real, he caressed her cheek and pushed a strand of golden hair behind her ear.

"You came for me…." He said hoarse whisper.

Everything that had worried her minutes before when she saw him dying in front of her very eyes had vanished. Calmness and love washed through her. She let his hand press up against her cheek, a teetering smile set on his face. For a moment, she chose not to respond, just relish in their moment together, alone. But when he sent her a strangely befuddled look and retracted his hand from her soft skin, did she have to return to reality.

"W-where did the pain go?"

His voice was laced with childish uncertainty. This made Sarah want to envelope him in a hug and never let go.

"Chuck the pain's gone and never coming back." She explained to him and waited for his expression to change. It never did.

"You're wrong, it will come back," His eyes watered and his voice wavered on the verge of panic, "When I flash, everything burns. My head, my body…it's like I'm on fire. D-do-don't make me flash anymore, Sarah. Please? It hurts. I should've never re-uploaded the Intersect, Bryce was right. He's always right. Was always right, it's my fault he's dead too, right? All of this is my fault, maybe I deserve this, right?!"

In the middle of his incoherent babble, Sarah covered his mouth with her free hand. Crying pitifully, he shut his eyes and shook his head rapidly. He blamed himself for everything. Sarah knew he was delusional. It had to be a side-effect from the trial medication and from his mental fatigue. What could she do now? Let him cry until he passes out? Unsure, Sarah removed her hand from his mouth and smiled sadly.

"Chuck, you don't know what you are saying," Sarah consoled him with her motherly voice, "Just close your eyes and go to sleep, you'll feel a thousand times better next time you wake up, ok?" Even she didn't know if she convinced herself with that lie.

"You p-promise?" he stuttered, his brown eyes still glassy from crying.

"I promise."

"Ok, can you stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," she agreed.

Lolling his bed back on the headrest of the couch, Chuck closed his eyes. Sarah stayed put for a few minutes, watching over him until he calmed down and fell asleep. Once she was certain that he was unconscious, she stealthily got up and---

"You know I've been scared to tell you this ever since the moment I met you…"

Freezing where she was, Sarah listened to Chuck's ramblings. Was he asleep, or just so heavily drugged that he had no clue what was coming out of his mouth?

"You probably don't feel the same way, and I don't really expect you to either." He licked his dry lips and smiled goofily, "But since we have an e-es-established relationship now, I feel like I need to come clean."

Craning her neck to one side, Sarah decided to sit back down and hear Chuck out. She couldn't see his face, it was still leaning back against the couch. But what she couldn't see was that Chuck was staring fully aware at the top of the ceiling. He was smiling.

"I love you Sarah Walker."

With his last effort to stay awake, Chuck listened attentively if Sarah decided to respond.

"I love you too, Chuck Bartowski."

From that point on, Chuck fell into a peaceful sleep. A wide grin lingered on his face.

* * *

End Chapter Two

Next Chapter: The Ten Rings Part II

An: Sorry if that was confusing and or angsty for a bit. I'm writing this while being devoid of sleep. Sorry. i'll have chapter three out maybe tomorrow if y'all review a lot. =) Trust me when I say that Chuck's condition will be adressed soon and same with Stark Industries and stuff.


	3. The Ten Rings Part II

An: Ok, I apologize about the extremely long wait for the latest chapter. It wasn't fair of me to hold out on updating for so long. I is sorry…I kinda lost interest in the story, but once I reread all of the lovely reviews, I became rejuvenated. Hurrah. So here's chapter three. Finally. Review please, I thank ya.

* * *

**Chapter Three: The Ten Rings Part II**

_Two Hours Later_…

A loud, unwanted knock on the door woke Chuck up from his slumber. He was still on the couch, this time his arms were sprawled out in every direction. A blanket covered his body in effort to cure him from the draftiness in the room. A fan was revolving in quick ministrations, blowing cold air toward him and causing him to shiver. He yawned loudly, stretching his arms to the ceiling. The blanket slid off of his chest and pooled to the ground. He got up slowly to his feet, completely unaware of the near death experience that had occurred two hours before. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Chuck sauntered lazily to the closed door and grabbed a hold of the handle. He pushed it down and opened the door. Leaning against the wall for support, Chuck sleepily waved at his visitor.

"Sleeping Beauty, you are finally awake."

Chuck yawned again, but this time it turned into a small chuckle.

"Hey, that's a good one. Very witty, and I love the connection that I'm a girl."

Rolling his eyes, Casey took a step forward into the room. Chuck closed the door behind him and took a seat back on the couch.

"How are you feeling?" Casey asked sincerely, his eyes glossed over Chuck's disheveled appearance.

"Uh---fine actually."

Casey's eyebrows raised in mild surprise, "Really? You don't have a headache or anything? Look at your hands, do they feel different?"

Chuck did as he was told. He brought his hands up to his half-lidded eyes and examined them thoroughly. They were a little different. Both ring fingers looked bent, like they were aligned incorrectly. Then his forefinger on his right hand was in fact taped to his middle finger in a steady splint.

"I broke a couple of fingers didn't I?"

This earned a snort from Casey. "Let's see if I can list everything wrong with you shall I? You dislocated both of your ring fingers, broke your right forefinger and sprained your right thumb. Then there's the minor concussion, whiplash from the neck, and bruised ankles and shins. And how can I forget the nice little scar you're going to have right---"

Casey prodded at Chuck's left eye. Chuck winced painfully and rubbed the bandaged covered wound with his least injured hand. "---here. Courtesy of me of course," he winked.

Now that every injury had been addressed, Chuck let the nerves in his body adjust to all of the damage he withstood. A second passed and then Chuck's face twisted in a distressed expression.

"Ow."

"That's all you have to say for yourself?" Casey asked almost angrily.

"Yeah, uh, can I have some Vicodin please? Or something that is possibly stronger?"

Shaking his head, Casey pulled Chuck up to his feet. Feeling the pain take its toll, Chuck's body swayed back and forth, regulating to the degree of soreness. All of his bones ached like mad.

"W-where are we going now?" Chuck asked not too overly enthused over moving at all.

"The Castle," Casey grunted.

"Right," Chuck nodded and followed Casey out of the room. Each step felt like he weighed over a thousand pounds. "So where is the new base of operations anyway? And I'm assuming Sarah already there too, huh?"

Another grunt. Chuck took it as a yes to one of his questions. He listened intently for an explanation but gone nothing in return. Sighing softly, Chuck settled for continuing to follow Casey down the gym's hallways. When they finally reached the end of the hall, Chuck stopped walking and leaned against a wall, breathing heavily and outright exhausted. Casey shot Chuck an annoyed glance. He beckoned the younger spy to meet him where he was standing. Chuck heaved a breath of air and forced himself to gravitate to where Casey was positioned. Once they were side by side, Chuck looked at a blank white wall. He stared at it oddly. Massaging the bridge of his nose, he looked over to Casey confusedly.

"So, we run through the dry wall and end up in the Castle?" Chuck asked him dryly, "That's ingenious."

"Shut up and turn to your left, idiot."

Chuck turned to the left and came face to face with a steel encased door, complete with a padlock and access monitor.

"Not going out of our way to be inconspicuous are we?" He said sarcastically.

Casey ignored him and punched in a code on the touch screen. Just like the Castle V.1 back below the Orange Orange, it was set up with the same security system. And when looking at it nonchalantly, Chuck immediately figured out how to breach the system. He didn't the Intersect for simplistic algorithms like this.

A soft tap to his shoulder (which felt more like a punch) pulled him from his trance. Chuck's eyes focused back on Casey, who now signaled him to enter the new base. He took several steps before noticing that there were steps to climb down. Sending Casey the Are-you-serious look, Chuck groaned out loud and began his decent to the bottom of the base.

Concentrating on each individual step ahead of him, Chuck slowly but surely made his way down the grated steps. His mouth screwed itself up in a pained grimace and he cursed excessively every time a foot would touch the next step.

"This is cruel and unusual punishment!" Chuck whined and used the handrail beside him to keep balanced.

"You're not the only one who is in pain, Bartowski."

This made Chuck smile, if not only briefly. "As you should be, I kicked your ass."

Before Casey could come up with a snarky remark, a new voice spoke up, sounding very gleeful and almost sickly happy.

"—He's got you there, Case," Chirped Sam. She was sitting on top of the oval table used for briefings. Her legs swung back and forth as she was too short to touch the floor.

"Don't call me that," Casey snarled.

"What?" Sam asked innocently. She batted her eyes and smiled.

Chuck smiled as well. The constant banter between the two agents alleviated the sometimes overwhelming pain of pushing his body down the stairs. When he made it to the last step before the grated platform, Chuck saw Sarah sitting in a chair, trying desperately to contain herself from laughing as well. She was staring at the table top, a blush creeping up on her cheeks. She looked absolutely beautiful, even when amongst the dark dreary contrast of the new and improved Castle.

"—Well I guess I can come up with a new nickname if you're so impartial to it."

"How about you shut your mouth for once and don't ever talk to me unless it's a matter of national security?"

"You're a matter of national security," shouted Sam indignantly. Casey scoffed at her lame comeback. She then leapt off of the table and passed Chuck without acknowledging him at all. Now standing toe to toe with the Colonel, she lifted an accusing finger poked him on his toned chest. "Let's make something perfectly clear, ok? I'm not afraid of you. So all of this--" She waves at his form "—does nothing for me. You're grunting and growling…well you just remind me of a dog quite frankly. Couldn't you just use words instead of resorting to the default 'grrr…'? I mean, jeez…"

Casey was left somewhat speechless. He was probably more surprised in the woman's drawn out and mostly pointless rant. He had noticed that she does that a lot. He blinked.

Opening his mouth slowly, Casey retorts in a calm tone, "You want to know what I honestly think of you?"

"Oh god yes." Sarcastic.

Chuck watched the two battle it out verbally for another second before stepping down on the Castle's hard floor and joining Sarah at the table. He pulled up a seat and sat beside her, then sent her an amused smile.

"They get along so well," He whispered to her jokingly.

"Like a brother and sister." She agreed with a nod.

"I wish we had some pop corn, this is pretty exciting…"

Sarah chuckled under her breath but then grew quiet. She still felt an odd presence surrounding them both. Had they not just professed their love to each other only a few hours ago? Why were they not acting differently? She stole a quick look at Chuck who was watching the two other spies arguing with interested eyes. It made her think that Chuck was really delusional when he told her that he loved her. Either that or he somehow didn't remember.

"—I think that you are too stupid to insult."

Sam's contemptuous expression never faltered, "Thank you."

"That's not a compliment!"

"But you sounded so sincere!"

"—Am I interrupting something, Colonel?"

Clutching his hands until they bled white, Casey snapped his dead lock gaze with the SHILED agent and focused on the wide screen television set up against the myriad of computer equipment assembled on the far end of the base. His back stood straight, but his cheeks burned red with being caught in mid-argument with the dumb woman.

"No M'am," Casey told her politely, "We we're waiting for our debriefing."

Chuck immediately removed his feet from the top of the table, almost losing his balance and falling off his chair in the process. Sarah held his still weak body in place, steadying him with her hands. Both of their eyes made solid contact for the first time since Chuck had awakened from his first restless sleep. Uncertain blue eyes stared at Chuck's glazed over brown ones. They were full of compassion and love. From that very point on, Sarah understood that there didn't need to be words spoken between them to rationalize their love for each other. It was written all over his face every day, and it only took her till this moment (as she helped him from spilling out of the chair and onto the floor like an idiot in front of the General) to realize it. Love really is blind.

"Thanks," Chuck muttered honestly, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He winced when he used his fingers to ensure he wouldn't lose his balance again.

Not wanting to stall their debriefing any longer, Sarah nodded at Chuck and then turned toward the large TV. Her smiling face melted into a serious expression.

General Beckman raised a speculative eyebrow at her team of spies. Mostly at Chuck in particular. She was still never quite used to the younger man's antics. Sighing, she folded her hands on top of her desk.

"Agent Wesson," She began in a demanding voice, "Would you mind telling me why you are here? The Castle is meant for my agents only, not others from different agencies…"

Leaving Casey's side, she shoved passed him and approached closer to the table. Even when Beckman had delivered a harsh blow meant for her, Sam still remained calm and maybe even a little bit chipper.

"Director Fury has given me orders to be a part of the new Intersect project, General. He feels that since you have NSA and CIA operatives involved, it's only fair to include SHIELD."

"SHIELD?" Beckman repeated, "Is that what they're calling it now?" She seemed unimpressed.

"Yes, General," Sam replied with a curt nod, "and Director Fury wants to be fully informed about the Intersect itself, he thinks that its technology could be useful in our department. We have, uh some interested individuals who want to see the full capabilities of this super computer."

Chuck stared over his shoulder to see an expectant look cross Sam's face. Like she was eager to see what Beckman's response would be. He was thoroughly confused however. What certain individuals want to be let in on the Intersect? Unsure, Chuck turned back around to face the TV screen. He barely caught Sarah's face; she was intrigued as well.

"If these 'individuals' are who I think they are then I'm cautious as to why I would let them in on the Intersect at all." Beckman spoke cryptically. Only Sam comprehended what she was saying.

"I fully understand your skepticism, General," Sam replied. To Chuck, she seemed heartfelt, "but you see, we have the upper hand in this situation—"

"—How the hell can you say that?" Casey interjected, his eyes narrowed at Sam.

"It's the Ring," She revealed solemnly.

"The Ring…" Chuck echoed thoughtfully.

"What about the Ring, agent Wesson?" Beckman was now more interested.

"SHIELD has gathered a large amount of data concerning the Ring. It's mostly on its connections with Fulcrum, HYDRA, and other secret underground agencies. And we've drawn one conclusion on all of the information we have…"

"And what would that be?"

"That the Ring is not one single operation. It's ten," Sam's voice grew more serious as she continued to relay all the details her agency knew about the Ring, "It's actually called the Ten Rings, and they've been around for a very long time. To put it simply, each 'ring' is divided up into a faction. There's Fulcrum. They were in charge of finding and rebuilding an Intersect of their own. Then there's HYDRA…" She grimaced and her eyes flashed dark as if she just relived a terrible memory, "T-they are who SHIELD fights—"

"What is HYDRA's involvement in this?" The General sounded worried.

"HYDRA's whole existence is about furthering their military technology," Sam explained, "They use highly advanced weapons, devices and vehicles developed by the other factions of the Ring. So they joined in as part of the whole organization to grow stronger as a whole. All parts of the Ring are mostly American based, and I'll explain more on that in a minute, but HYDRA is unique. Its international and they are bent on destruction and world domination."

"So they're terrorists essentially?" Sarah asked.

"Exactly," Sam nodded and folded her arms.

"But what about the other parts of the Ring?" Casey inquired.

"They are not as big of a deal when being compared to Fulcrum or HYDRA, but they are dangerous in their own rights." Tired of standing, Sam walked over to an empty chair and plops down. She rubbed her face tiredly, "The remaining factions of the Ten Rings are independent government contractors. So far we know of Starkwood and BxJ Corporations…and all they want is to supply their weapons to terrorists or in our case, HYDRA and sometimes Fulcrum."

Upon listening to Sam inform them on the Ring and its motives, Chuck became fully engaged in a flash. Making sure that Beckman did not t notice his unusual facial expression, he covered his face with both hands and waited until the Intersect stopped its stream of data. As the flash ceased, Chuck learned about everything that had to do with the government's knowledge of the independent contractors. What was shown inside his mind was almost exactly what Sam was trying to tell the General, but more extensive and thorough.

"Mr. Bartowski, are you alright?"

A soft hand touched the side of his face, pulling him away from the simmering effects of the Intersect. Chuck dropped his hands to the table and saw Sarah staring back at him. She noticed the dazed expression on his face and she mouthed "flash." He nodded discreetly. She retracted her hand from him and quickly became professional. General Beckman coughed to get everyone's attention.

"Yes, General, "Chuck replied tiredly, "I'm fine…just had a long day. Continue, Sam." He gave her the go ahead gesture and she smiled gratefully.

"That's actually mostly it," She shrugged in her chair, holding her hands out helplessly. "We probably have loads more info on each faction, but I'm just a standard agent…me and my partner are actually just getting acquainted with SHIELD and its protocols and procedures."

"So what you are implying is that if I keep you on board with the Intersect project, you will inform my people on the continual information gathered from SHIELD as soon as you learn of them?"

"Yeah, it's a simple trade. We learn more about the Intersect and you learn more about the bad guys who will stop at nothing to have it…"

"That sounds fair," Chuck butted in.

"You don't make the decisions, Bartowski," Casey reminded him.

"—I have decided on provisional bases, Agent Wesson, you can join the Intersect project. But that's only if you can provide me with substantial information on the Ring. If you can't or are stringing me along, you will be terminated at once," Beckman warned her in a steady tone, "Understood?"

"Understood, General," Sam agreed, "And I'll relay this meeting to Director Fury at once. He will want to speak with you."

"As I expect so," Beckman sighed. Then she changed the subject as soon as everything became too quiet. "I almost forgot to inform all of you that there is a mission planned for tomorrow."

"Mission? Oh boy," Chuck whooped sarcastically, getting a dirty look from Casey and an irritated look from the General.

"Yes Mr. Bartowski, or should I say, Agent Bartowski?" She placed on a pair of reading glasses and shuffled together a manila folder with Classified stamped red on the top. She flipped open the folder and read the contents inside. "Apparently there is a small Fulcrum sleeper cell in downtown Los Angeles. It was another training facility for new recruits and it was what was left of Ted Roark's legacy as a Fulcrum Elite. Tomorrow, I want the three—four of you to go find the building, secure it and locate any Intel left on the computers that may give us a valuable lead on the remaining Fulcrum agents, and hopefully something about the Ten Rings."

"You can count on us, General," Chuck said gave her the thumbs up, "We got everything under control."

"For everyone's sake, I hope so," Beckman told him soulfully, "Brief me when the mission is a success, goodnight."

The screen went blank.

"That went swimmingly don't ya think?" Sam bounded out of the chair and laughed. She shed all of her unwanted seriousness.

"I wouldn't say it went that well…"

"Oh Charlie, don't be so pessimistic. I think I got the General right where I want her."

"And where would that be?" Casey growled defensively.

"Uh, I don't actually know. I just always wanted to say that." She laughed.

Chuck and Sarah exchanged glances and Casey's eye twitched.

"Anyway, before I get going back to headquarters, I wanted to ask you something Charlie."

Chuck leaned back in his chair and stared at her confusedly, "Yeah, what about?"

"Director Fury will know that you are the human Intersect by the time I brief him. He will also know about the strengths and limitations that these flashes entail. I can tell you with complete conviction that he will want to meet you, Charlie. And there's a big chance that he'll try and talk you into ditching what you're doing now and join SHIELD…"

"I'm not going anywhere," Chuck said defiantly.

"You say that now," Sam warned him, "but my boss is pretty convincing. He's gotten the best of the best joining our cause. Just by seeing you beat the living tar out of the Colonel over here, you'd be a perfect fit for the Initiative."

"The Initiative?" All three of them responded in unison.

"Yep, and wow, look at the time!" Sam sprang up from her chair and headed towards the stairs. "I need to get going before my partner kicks my ass; she's a very inhumane person when she wants to be."

"Sam, can you be any more cryptic?" Chuck got up and shouted at her.

"See ya bright and early, Chuckles! Nice meeting all of you, a pleasure."

She bowed and sprinted up the stairs. The automatic door slid open and she disappeared behind it. When it slammed shut, Chuck, Sarah, Casey was all left behind, staring at each other in complete silence.

"Somehow I don't think she was supposed to mention that little piece of information to us," Chuck mused out loud.

"Which part?" Casey grunted.

"I think the Initiative part. Her face went all red…"

"Did you flash on it at all?" Sarah got up stared at Chuck questioningly.

"No, actually I didn't," He shrugged, "Maybe the Intersect has nothing on it…SHIELD seems to be pretty covert in general, and I barely could get any new information out of the flash that Sam didn't already explain."

Contemplating it for a little while longer, Chuck was interrupted by a vibration sensation in his back pocket. He picked it up and saw a picture of his sister on the front. Feeling nervousness well up in his stomach, Chuck closed his eyes and answered the phone.

"Hey, Sis. What's up?"

Sarah saw Chuck's facial expression change as he frantically checked his phone for the time. His eyes widened and he tried to convince Ellie that he would be home as soon as he could.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry, El! I completely lost track of time. Sarah and I were uh…exercising at the new gym…and we—"

Sarah heard Ellie laughing on the other end of the phone, most likely in disbelief.

"I so do work out!" Chuck replied stubbornly, "You can ask anybody. Like your husband, he'll vouch for me."

There was more mumbling and this time less laughter.

"I'll be there in twenty minutes at the most, ok?"

"Ok, bye."

He ended the call and stuffed the Iphone in the back of his pants. He stared directly at Sarah and his lips curved up in a small smile.

"What's the word?" She asked him lightly.

"Dinner at Ellie's, my dad will be there…."He held her hand and rubbed it slowly, "It's kind of a big deal. Now that the family is back together for the most part, Ellie wants to have a sit-down family dinner at least once a week." He stared at her lovely blue eyes and is lost in them. "Since you're a part of this family, Ellie said that you're more than welcome to come."

"I'd love too," She answered happily.

Chuck flashed the biggest smile she's seen in a long time. He pulled her closer to his chest until they lacked any space between them. Before he moved in to her lips, Chuck was derailed by a very irate grunt.

"Number 17: Uncomfortable around an excess amount of lady feelings and it makes me want to throw up. Did I get that right, Case?" Chuck called to him with a cheeky grin.

"Just get the hell out of here…the both of you. I'll finish closing the gym down if you promise me you'll stop the kissy faces; its driving me insane."

"I can manage."Chuck conceded.

"See you tomorrow, Casey," Said Sarah.

"Just leave."

Chuck nodded and linked his arm with Sarah's as they traveled up the stairs to the exit. When he approached the first step, he cringed and sent Sarah an exasperated look.

"I can't go up, that's impossible."

Sarah shook her head. She climbed up several flights of stairs and beckoned him to follower her, "It's not impossible, Chuck. Nothing's impossible with the right motivation…"

Holding onto the handrail, Chuck raised an eyebrow, "Motivation? Explain Agent Walker."

"Well," She drawled out in the cutest way possible, "If you can't make it up these stairs, then what makes you think you can come home with me after we have dinner at your sister's?"

At this, Chuck's mouth went slack. He knew he didn't need a flash to get him up to the entrance. He took a deep breath and then rushed up the stairs, taking Sarah by the hand and yanking her through the doorway.

When the automatic door slid shut, Casey was still at the bottom of the Castle, doing clean up. He shook his head dubiously and laughed to himself, "I guess nerds can really get the girl."

* * *

Next Chapter: Viruses, Worms, and Spyware, oh my!


	4. Heat of the Moment

Note: Ok, so here's a quick update since I was so deeply in the mood. I decided to write a mostly Chara chapter becuase I, well felt like it. Um, so the real Chapter 4 will be Chapter 5 because this one was getting too long anway. This actually is a pivotal chapter for the rest of the story and possibly the sequel i'm thinking about writing. So this is not a filler chapter. Thanks for all of the reviews, i love'm.

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**Chapter Four: Heat of the Moment**

_He's sitting down and enjoying a nice lunch with everyone who matters most to him. _

_His family._

_His friends._

_They are his loved ones._

_For some reason, they are at a local park. Save for the seven of them, the place is desolate. It gives him weird vibes, like this one small detail is trying to tell him something. But he shakes the feeling off and sips his beer. _

_A warm playful hand lands on his shoulder and then he's kissed on the side of his cheek. He puts down his beer on the blanket laid out for them and focuses his gaze into her crystal blue eyes. _

_She smiles. _

_He smiles. _

_Everything is perfect._

_In the clearing, his best friend is waving his arms erratically. Jumping up and down he realizes that he's too short to catch the Frisbee that is being purposefully thrown just over him. He's stuck in a game of monkey in the middle. But he still continues to try and catch it. Just to show them he can. _

_His brother-in-law easily grabs for the Frisbee and catches it. He gives the bearded man a sorry look but tosses it back to the other side of the clearing, where the larger man rips it out of the air. He grunts amused when the shorter man threatens to fight him and then quickly backs down as he takes a threatening step forward._

_He watches the monkey in the middle continue and figures he should probably tell the two men to stop exploiting his best friend's flaw, but she manages to keep leaning into his ear and whisper things to him. Her words make him grow hot all over. He hurriedly scans the rest of the empty park in search of some confined space the two of them could hide. _

_There's more laughter coming from the playground. His eyes fall on the swing set where his father is leaning against a steel pole, talking animatedly with his daughter…his sister. She is sitting on a swing, pumping her legs nonchalantly as she increases her acceleration; every time she falls back she is launched further up into the open blue sky and it seems endless to her. _

_He is caught up in other peoples' happiness, not fully enjoying his own. All he can fully grasp is how beautiful the day is. It's by definition: perfect. Instead of seeking out a place for the two of them to 'hide,' he vouches to stay. He takes her by her petite hand and stares longingly in her deep eyes. Then he looks to her hand and hears the familiar jingle of his mother's bracelet. His heart feels lighter now. The bracelet shines brightly in the sunlight giving off a holy glow. He intertwines his hands with her and draws closer towards her. She closes the space between them and uses her free hand to play with his curly hair. They make one final eye contact. Brown sees blue. Then their lips catch and they kiss._

"_I love you Chuck Bartowski," She murmurs into his ear. She links her arms around his neck in a loving embrace._

_His head is buried into her hair, smelling her aroma and he feel lightheaded from it. He almost misses what she said. _

"_I love you too, Sarah Lisa—" _

_He feels that odd sensation again. This time he cannot ignore it. He gradually lifts his head from Sarah's hug and his eyes dart out passed the clearing. He loosens the embrace between them until they part; her eyes land on his, utterly confused. He stays absolutely silent and it passes off as cold to her. She watches him as he stares down something across the grass fields. He is frightened and rolls up to his feet, knocking down his bottle of beer. The alcohol leaks on the blanket and perfection is lost. _

"_What's wrong?" She asks him with concern etched on her face._

_He still is staring off into the clearing; his face is vacant almost if he's flashing. He looks so far away. One of his hands stretches out and offers her up. Sarah becomes nervous but takes his hand and is hoisted up. _

"_We need to leave. Now."_

"_What are you talking about, Chuck?" She tries to get him to give her a straight answer, but he's too shaken up to respond to anything, "There's nothing here. Fulcrum, the Ten Rings…the CIA and NSA, even SHIELD…Chuck we are all alone, we're free. Can't you see that?" She is pleading now. "This is our normal life, our perfect sanctuary. Isn't it everything you hoped it would be?"_

_Her words echo throughout the park. They are convincing and snap Chuck from his stupor. He still sees the faint outline of the man in black, obscured from behind the trees that line the outskirts of the clearing. The man in black is twirling something in his hand. It glints in the sunlight even though he cannot be seen. It's sharp and deadly. Chuck grows cold and listless. This is not is personal haven. Someone has invaded it._

_Chuck puts both of his hands on her shoulders and shakes her. "Sarah, we need to go! There's someone out there and—"_

"—_What the hell is Bartowski blabbering about now?"_

"—_Oh thank god! Casey, you'll listen to me: I just saw something that was straight out of a horror movie and I think it's a good idea if we—"_

"_Hey Chuck, what's going on?" Morgan walks up with Devon. He looks rather pleased with himself as he is holding the Frisbee like a trophy. _

"_Morgan, buddy, listen to me ok?" Chuck is ready to tell him about his dirty little secret but the man beyond the clearing has fled. His body tenses and he forgets that Morgan is waiting patiently for his explanation. _

"_Charles, did you see anyone suspicious out there?" Steven, his father interjects. He and Ellie approach the rest of the group. All eyes stare at Chuck anxiously. He has no clue what to say. He gulps._

_Before he can utter anything of importance, a shadow envelops the sun and night falls early. Chuck's eyebrows furrow and he is at loss. This is has to be a nightmare, he tells himself. A very real and vivid nightmare. _

"_W-what just happened?" Ellie enters the conversation in a quite but scared tone. _

"_I-I don't know…" Chuck responds helplessly. _

"_Oh, you know what's going on, Agent Carmichael."_

_Chuck twists around and sees a shadowy figure, his face remains cloaked in the darkness. The man in black holds a large knife in one hand and twirls it in a menacing fashion. His voice reminds Chuck of his own in a way. It's distorted and dark, but there's a hint of amusement that lingers behind every syllable. _

"_Who the hell are you?" Casey snaps and draws his gun. Sarah quickly follows suit. Both are aimed at the main's chest. He does not look too worried however._

"_I don't think it matters who I am, at least not to you…or Barbie over here," He snickers and his laugh is cold and emotionless, "I'm just here for the Intersect."_

_At once, everyone's eyes dart to Chuck. Even Ellie and Morgan who have no clue about his spy life glares at him. Chuck takes a hesitant step back._

"_You can't have him," Sarah tells him harshly, "Now drop your weapon or we'll shoot you right where you stand."_

_The man in black stops playing with his knife, "Why, aren't you brave, Agent Walker. Defending your asset like that. Makes me kinda wish I can give a shit."_

_Casey has had enough of the bickering. He cocks his gun back and fires a whole round intended for the man. His gun clicks empty and he realizes that every bullet is a blank. He growls angrily. _

_Sarah sends him a discouraging look. She pulls the trigger on her gun but nothing happens. Her heart sinks and she visibly shudders. It is jammed. _

"_Tough luck you guys," He says but doesn't mean it at all, "That's too bad because I wanted to have a little fun first…"_

_He lets his last words linger in the now frigid air. Sarah and Casey exchange sorrowful looks. Chuck shakes where he is standing._

_There is a flash, but it isn't one of the Intersect's flashes that Chuck hopes for. It's a flash of a sleek and deadly weapon. A ribbon of crimson red flies through the blackened sky and a body thumps to the ground. There is a scream, but Chuck has his eyes glued to the fallen body. He can't believe what just happened._

"_One down," The man smirks and his knife is red, "five more to go before I have you, Chuckles."_

_Chuck falls to his knees and stares at a pair of surprised blue eyes. Sarah touches his shoulder and urges him up. She is in agent mode. _

"_Chuck, let's go."_

"_Casey…" _

"_I know, but we need you alive!"_

_She tugs on him and Chuck unwillingly complies. Then the chase begins._

_The man in black makes no attempt to chase after them. He playfully pins down Morgan to a tree and then there's a second flash of the reddened blade. Chuck doesn't see this happen but he hears another moan. _

"_Chuck don't look back, just run." She commands him in a stern voice._

_There's more slicing and dicing going on back at the clearing. Chuck can see from the corner of his eyes that Devon is trying to avenge Morgan's death, but is dealt with almost at once. Ellie screams loudly, but her father holds her back. The man in black grins and the last thing Chuck hears from his sister is her pleading for Chuck to come back and save her. His father is next and he goes down without much of a fight._

"_And then there was one," The man jeers, "Miss Sarah Walker, you're next."_

"_God, Sarah, don't leave…please." Chuck begs, he doesn't know it but he's crying now._

"_I won't, I promise…" She smiles and squeezes his hand._

_A knife is thrown. She stops. He stops. Her eyes widened in surprise and blood trickles down her lip. She loses her balance and falls to the ground, the hilt of the knife sticks out of her back. _

"_Sarah!"_

_Chuck collapses on the grass field and sobs. His whole body shakes and he covers his face with both hands, he cannot look at her face. Anger wells up within him and he pounds the bloodstained grass with his balled up fists. Tears slide off his cheeks and drip to the floor. He buries his head in the field and wrecks with more uncontrolled sobbing._

"_I-I couldn't save…anyone. Not one person!" _

_The man tilts his head and pulls his knife out of the CIA agent's back. _

"_Oh god…this is my entire fault! God dammit…"_

_The man in black walks to Chuck's side and kicks him roughly in the ribs. The wind is knocked out of him and he falls on his back, holding his stomach as he tries to catch his breath. Chuck closes his eyes and winces in pain._

"_Fuck you," Chuck strains to say through half-lidded eyes. _

_The man lowers himself to one knee and points his red-tipped knife at Chuck threateningly. _

"_No, Chuck. This is all you buddy," He teases him._

_Chuck opens his eyes and sees a deep pair of liquid brown eyes. They are much darker, but hauntingly familiar. The shadow that lingers between both men dissipates. Everything that shrouds the man in black sifts away and the park returns to its bright and happy day. Chuck feels sick to his stomach._

"_No…" He moans defiantly and shakes his head._

"_Oh yes…" The man nods._

_Chuck tries to scramble away, but the man stops him. Now he can see who had murdered all of his loved ones so mercilessly. There is a teetering laugh and another flash of the knife and Chuck couldn't move. He locks gazes with his own killer and waits for death to overcome him. _

_All he can see is himself._

* * *

Chuck shot straight up into the air. He gasped for air and frantically searched the room around in. Everything was dark. The blinds were closed and the alarm that was set for 6:00 am went off, playing Asia's "Heat of the Moment."

He rubbed his eyes and as the chorus began to play, Chuck flashed. Without having any control over himself, he flipped the covers off of the bed and skillfully unsheathed one of Sarah's knives from her leg. He gripped it hard and swiftly flung it in the pitch black. He heard it make contact on the other side of the room and "Heat of the Moment" was immediately cut off.

The lights flickered on and Chuck stared horrified into nothingness. Sarah had used her stealthy spy prowess to slide off the bed and flip the light switch on. She stared at the knife which had murdered her alarm clock and then she looked at Chuck. She became instantly worried.

"I know I said I didn't like Asia, Chuck, but you didn't have to kill my new alarm clock." She tried to lighten up the mood. Then became crestfallen when her eyes strayed back to her destroyed clock, "It was brand new too…"

"Sorry Sarah," Chuck breathed out meekly.

"I was kidding, Chuck..." She shook her head, "Sort of." She saw a small smile creep up on Chuck's face and part of her worry faded away. She came back to the bed and sat down beside him on his side. He was shirtless and sweating. His chest heaved up and down and his breathing was erratic and ragged. Sarah pursed her lips together in a thin line. She then tentatively placed her hand on his glistening cheek. She saw his eyes begin to calm down and soon he was taking deep breaths instead of his short sporadic ones.

"Bad dream?" She asked him quietly.

He leaned into the palm of her hand and closed his eyes. He yawned.

"Bad dream," He agreed gruffly. His voice was hoarse from screaming.

She rubbed his sweat soaked face until he completely calmed down.

"It happens to the best of us, Chuck." She consoled him as best as she could.

"I know," He said softly, "I know…"

Then he opened one eye and muttered sheepishly, "What time is it?"

Sarah rolled her eyes, "Well before you rudely decided to break my one week old clock, the time was just after six." She sighed dramatically, "But now who really knows what time it is? Thanks a lot Bartowski."

Chuck snorted and wiped the acclimated beads of sweat from his forehead. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist and reeled her closer to him. Wagging his eyebrows suggestively he grinned.

"You're very welcome, Miss Walker," He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. In the back of his mind he shivered.

"_Miss Walker, you're next." _

"If you need anyone to break your housing devices, then look no more. I'm you're man."

"That's a very gracious offer, Chuck, but I'm going to decline, I'm afraid." She gently tapped the side of his face and kissed him back, "We need to get ready for the mission today anyway."

"Mission?" Chuck mused out loud. Then everything from the day before filtered through his brain like a flash, "Oh right, awesome." Then he watched as Sarah pushed off the bed and walked gracefully toward the bathroom. His eyes followed her backside lustfully as she was wearing her tight shorts and a thin and very much see through shirt. Never breaking her stride, Sarah peeled off her shirt and discarded it over her shoulder. Chuck watched this in awe.

"Aren't you going to come join me?" she invited him and then disappeared into the next room.

His eyes bulging out of his head, Chuck leapt out of the covers, almost tripping over himself as he desperately tried to shimmy off his boxers.

"I'm coming!" He yelled after her and hit the ground with an audible thud. "Damn, shorts, fuck just get off!"

He gave up momentarily but once he heard the shower go on full blast, he bounced back to his feet and sprinted for the bathroom. Sarah laughed when she saw Chuck slide on the slippery tiled surface and almost crash in a heap. His boxer shorts were still hanging askew on his waist and just by assessing the look on her face, Chuck felt his cheeks redden.

"Having technical difficulties?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh," He looked down, "Yeah…"

"I can fix that," She pressed up against him felt for his boxer shorts, but kept her eyes directly on Chuck. She winked and then effortlessly pulled them down. "Better?"

Chuck fidgeted nervously on the balls of his feet when Sarah eyed at his reaction. When he couldn't come up with a witty response, she trailed a hand from his embarrassed cheek and down, down, down. Chuck gulped and closed his eyes.

"So, uh, how about that shower?"

"We're getting there, Chuck." She promised and began to shirk off her own shorts, "Just trust me."

"I always trust you," He said truthfully.

"I know," She nodded and then slowly pushed him backwards until he could feel the light mist of the shower hit his back. "Now take a step back and try not to kill yourself."

"Yes, M'am." He mock saluted and did as he was told. The water was now crashing against his back like a waterfall. It drenched his hair making his curls stick to his forehead. Once he was fully inside, Sarah lifted one foot up and kicked away her shorts that were pooled at the bottom of her feet. She followed him inside letting her whole body get soaked by the hot water. Steam poured inside of the closed quarters of the shower stall and Sarah took advantage of it. She locked eyes with Chuck's and then without warning, she slammed him against the tiled wall.

"Shouldn't we be getting ready?" Chuck bit out weakly as he started to feel somewhat uncomfortable.

"Chuck," She sighed exasperatedly, "We're on schedule, don't get so nervous. We won't be late and we have plenty of time."

"Is that due to you setting our alarm for six am?" He chuckled nervously.

"Nice inferring skills," She said dryly.

"Well," He brought his arms up and linked them around her bare back, "I have to be skillful if I'm going to be a super secret agent."

"Oh really?" Sarah closed the space between them even more, "What other skills do you have, Agent Carmichael?"

"I know a few."

"Why don't you show me?"

A sly grin appeared on his face and just for the remainder of the shower, Chuck let all his problems vanish into thin air. He'd let those issues resurface when the time is right. Now, well, he had something much more important going on.

"As you wish," He responded lovingly and then he captured her lips as the heat from the shower set both of their souls on fire.

* * *

Note: Ok, for real, tonight i'll be starting on the Chapter 5. I hope I just did Chara justice.


	5. Viruses, Worms, and Spyware, oh my!

**An: Here's another long chapter. It's finaly mission time for Team Bartowski! For a premature warning, this chapter has it all: humor, randomness, some action, and drama and even angst. So don't get discouraged by all that stuff, just enjoy yourself. All the real action comes in the following chapter this won't be too confusing to follow, i was up writing this until 3am last night so heh. _Review please!_**

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**Chapter Five: Viruses, Worms, and Spyware, oh my!**

_Location: Downtown Los Angeles_

_Abandoned BxJ Corp. building/warehouse_

_Time: Noon_

The Crown Victoria drove up to the seemingly abandoned building and gradually slowed down to a stop. Chuck stared out of the tinted windows and surveyed the large edifice. A creeping feeling of impending anxiety bubbled underneath his surface. He inhaled a deep breath and concentrated on what he needed to accomplish. This was his first real mission. He wasn't Chuck Bartowski, the asset any longer. He was Agent Charles Carmichael, the human Intersect. He was a hero, he was that guy. He had to be that guy if he wanted to make it out alive.

Laying his head on the headrest, he let his eyes close briefly to ensure he'd calm down. A familiar hand interlocked themselves with his fingers, sending an electric shock up through his nerves and to his brain.

Sarah.

She could do the simplest thing (like holding his hand) and somehow it would be enough to make him feel alright. He let one eye slide open just barely so that he could see her. She was staring out of her window, lost in her own thoughts. Her complexion was stoic and emotionless; it was by definition Agent Sarah Walker. Deep down underneath that rough exterior, Chuck knew that she was still reveling in their night of passion. She turned her head slightly so that she faced him. Her hair was undone for this mission. Mostly because it was expected that it would be a fairly easy and effortless one to accomplish. Her mouth curved into an understanding smile because only she could possibly know that he was staring at her though his half-lidded eyes. And the solitary thought that kept lingering in the back of her mind as she locked her gaze with him was why did he look as if he was walking right into some unforeseen doom?

"I'm on a highway to Hell!" Sam broke through the silence with an off key attempt at doing her own rendition of the ACDC song. She bobbed her head to the hard rock ballad, effectively getting on Casey's nerves. It wasn't like it took too much to achieve that anyway.

"Shut up," He warned her in a low menacing voice.

"And I'm going downnnnnn…." She yelled loudly, "Alllllllllll the way," Then air guitared the brief instrumental riff and finished with a long, "Ahhhhhhhhh!"

Casey's face went red with suppressed fury. His nostrils flared like a bull's. Chuck's eyes snapped open when the song was drawing to a close; he exchanged a weirded out glance with Sarah. She nodded in agreement.

"Are you done?" Casey seethed.

In a small voice she sang, "On a highway to hell…"

"Remind me to never let you sit up here ever again."

"But I called shotgun!" Sam protested.

Casey put the car in park and cut the engine. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stared over his shoulder to face the couple behind him. He looked ready to disembowel someone.

"Remind me to never let her come within one hundred feet of my car," He pleaded with them.

"Sure thing, big guy." Chuck nodded and gave him the ok gesture with his right hand.

Chuck heard a grunt and then the driver's door flung open. Chuckling quietly to himself, he glanced over at Sarah who was trying to contain herself also. She had a hand covering her mouth and she was giggling. Actually giggling. This made him grin even more.

"Hey you guys," Sam spoke up. She had her seatbelt unbuckled and she was turned all around so that she was facing the both of them. She was wearing an oblivious frown on her face, "is Casey angry or something?"

"Don't worry about it, Sam," Chuck assured her with a confident smile, "That's just Casey's MO. He's just kind of an angry individual…you'll get used to it."

"Oh, ok."

There was a brief pause and then she wondered out loud, "I just thought he was having a bad day yesterday. I kinda hit him on the head with a rolled up magazine and you gave him an ass whooping too…"

"That can always be a part of it," Sarah concurred, sending Chuck a doubtful look.

"Eh, he's fun to mess with so oh well!" She laughed in spite of the situation. She opened her door and jumped out. Chuck and Sarah watched in awe as she slid on the Vic's sleek top and met Casey on the other side. If it was any more possible, Sam had gotten Casey's face even redder.

"Get off of my car!" He screamed at her, "I just polished her." The end came out like whine.

"Wow, has Sam figured out a way to break John Casey?" Chuck blinked in wonder.

"It appears so."

"Sarah, make sure to never leak this valuable information out to other sources," He feigned a warning tone, "Or else the world we know is lost…"

"You make no sense, Chuck."

"I make sense, you just need to think about it first," He kidded lightly.

"I'm not even going to try and comprehend what you just said."

Sarah released her hand from his and then climbed out of her seat. Chuck watched her leave and his heaved a sigh.

"Game face, Bartowski."

He slid out of his seat and left the Vic.

"Game face."

* * *

Team Bartowski plus one were all standing at the rear of the Crown Victoria. Casey waited impatiently for Chuck to join the three of them and once he was there, the NSA agent popped open the trunk.

Inside was a heavy loaded arsenal fit for a special ops Blackwater team. Examining all of the weapons, Chuck felt a little queasy. They didn't need all of these did they?

Casey took a shotgun and used it to prop the trunk open. Then he dove his hands inside the depths of his collection of arms and pulled out what they need to complete the mission.

"This should be enough for today," he decided.

He handed each of them a bullet proof vest and a handgun, probably a Glock. Both Sam and Sarah took their weapons and protection gratefully and began to strip off their jackets and tops until they were down to their bras. Chuck watched this with an open mouth.

"Here's your gun, Bartowski. God save us all."

Chuck carefully reached for his Kevlar vest which weighed his arm down till the vest almost dropped from his hand. Casey grunted and held the gun out for him to take. Chuck swallowed uncertainly.

"You know what?" Chuck stuttered, "I don't think I need that. I'm actually feeling really good with a non lethal vest and the supercomputer that's in my head."

Casey pushed the gun up to Chuck's face, "You take this right now. You're a real spy, numb nuts so that means you need to act like one. And God help me, you need to be armed."

"No thanks, Casey. Really, I'm fine. Guns only complicate things," He convinced the older man hurriedly. He got a complacent stare from Casey who just shrugged and murmured "your loss." Then Chuck stripped off his shirt and began to strap on his vest.

Minutes passed and by half passed noon, the four spies were ready for combat. Before they started to assess their situation, Sam dug her hand into several of her pockets (both jeans and jacket) and proceeded to freak out.

"Dammit, where is it?!" She screamed frantically.

"Where's what?" Chuck asked. He was staring at her with a tired expression.

"My pills!" She replied in a panicky voice.

"Pills?"

"Isn't that what I just said, asshat?"

Taken back by her rudeness, Chuck went quiet.

"You mean these?" Casey called out. He was by the passenger's seat of the Vic, tossing a small plastic bottle in his hand.

"Oh my god," She breathed in a sigh of relief and then almost attacked Casey for her meds.

"Can I ask you a quick question?" The older man said and held the pills just out of her reach.

"Yeah sure, just give them to me! I'll be so fucked if I don't get my dosage."

"I don't think so, Sam." He said this with a smirk. Sam's face went from confused to nervous and then to enraged in a matter of seconds, "You bastard, you better give me my medication right now or I'll sick Charlie on you. You don't want a repeat of yesterday do you?"

"You've caused me a great deal of emotional trauma in less than two days," explained Casey, "So this is my form of payback. I take away your damn addiction and I watch you go through withdrawals cold turkey."

Sam shook slightly, "Hey, idiot, did you ever check what they were for? Huh, or do all you stupid Fed's just assume they're illegal and I'm a druggie?"

"I don't give a rat's ass…"

"Casey, just give it back to her ok?" Chuck tried to rationalize with his handler, "We have a mission at stake so why don't we all take a deep breath and---"

Thud.

"What the hell?"

Sam was on the pavement, fast asleep. She snored softly and had her body curled up in a small ball. Drool was already beginning to form at the corner of his lip.

"Is she, is she sleeping?" Chuck blinked. He crouched down and poked at Sam's prone form. Seemingly convinced, he got back up to his feet and shot Casey an incredulous stare, "She is asleep; give her those pills so we can get this over with."

Grumbling, Casey bent over and picked up Sam easily and handed her limp body for Chuck and Sarah to hold. They held the dead wait as the NSA agent popped off the top of the bottle and spilled out two white pills. He then read the instructions on the label, his eyes widening in understanding.

"She has a severe case of Narcolepsy," Casey continued to read. His voice seemed to have a touch of regret to it.

"You must be joking. How is she even an agent?" Sarah said in disbelief.

Casey didn't respond, he just plopped the two pills inside Sam's open mouth and forced her to swallow them. A moment passed and then she came around. Her eyes blinked open and she wiped the drool away from her lips. She shot him a dark stare and then straightened herself out.

"Why didn't you tell us about your little condition?" Casey asked semi annoyed.

"Because," She huffed and shook both of Chuck's and Sarah's hold off her, "I didn't want the special treatment and I don't want to be handled differently, like some special needs kid."

This got Casey speechless. For once, Sam looked down right pissed. Her charcoal eyes were filled with a faraway pain. Chuck looked between the two spies and decided that maybe they should get started on the objective at hand.

"Hey, guys, I don't want to sound impatient or anything, but aren't we supposed to be on an assignment right now?"

The three of them nodded and Chuck sighed.

"Let's get going then."

* * *

They were all hiding behind a cement wall that blocked them from the building's entrance. Sarah poked her head out the side of the wall to search out the best way to lead their assault.

"We should split up," she whispered to her team, "There's two entrances, and if there are Fulcrum agents inside, we shouldn't be clumped together."

Chuck stared at her unsurely, "Split up?"

"What's wrong with that, Bartowski?" Casey snickered.

"Well, doesn't the whole, "Let's split up, gang," remind you of anything?"

There was a beat and then Sam, who had been nice and quiet since her little breakdown, spoke up in a small voice, "He's referring to Scooby Doo. He doesn't think it's a practical idea."

He pointed a finger at Sam, "Exactly! I think splitting up is a no go, not unless we end up running into Daphne in that creepy abandoned warehouse…"

He sighed reminiscing, "Oh Daphne, I liked her."

Casey grunted.

Sam giggled a little.

Sarah jabbed him in the gut.

"Sam, you and Chuck go through the side entrance, I doubt you will be faced with any hostiles. Casey and I will go for the front entrance so we can take out any guards or Fulcrum agents."

"Ok, fine," Chuck grimaced. He pulled up the sleeve of his shirt a bit and revealed to have his father's computer cuff attached to his forearm. He played around with the touch screen until he brought up the building's layout. He then used his deft fingers to check each room. His eyes furrowed in concentration and then he pointed out with his free hand to show the rest of the team what they were looking for.

"Here's the room we need to get to," he tapped the cuff with his index finger. He met up with three pairs of attentive eyes. They were all in agent mode, ready for anything. "But see all of these dots…wait what the hell?"

"So we do have company," Casey smirked and cocked his gun.

"Uh, yeah, apparently…" Chuck's voice became strained.

"How many potential casualties are we looking at, Chuck?"

"For them or for us?" He received an impartial look and then he laughed nervously at his own joke, "Well there's….ten of them."

"You sound so sure of yourself…"

"Casey, just be happy that I'm telling you anything. I can always just withhold information from you and let all of us walk in blind."

"Just got told," Sam said in a sing song voice, she was screwing on her silencer on both of her desert eagles.

Casey growled under his breath. He applied the silencer on his gun too. As did Sarah. Chuck watched with a speculative eye and then he got out of their hiding space and waited for his team to go.

* * *

After Team Bartowski and Sam made it to the front of the building without any trouble whatsoever, Sarah decided that they should go their separate ways. Chuck grudgingly followed Sam, who he didn't know if she had any prior field training. She wasn't even wielding her guns. She just strolled along with Chuck through the empty hallways, following wherever Orion's computer told them to go.

"Here, through this door." Chuck commanded and pointed to the heavily secured door.

"How are we going to get in there?" She asked, she drew dual guns and prepared to shoot the lock.

"Wait! D-don't do that!"

"Why not?" She lowered her guns a bit and gave him a peculiar look.

"Mythbusters confirmed that it is impossible to shoot a lock off with a handgun." He replied very adamantly.

Sam tilted her head to the side and thought about that logic, "but I have two guns…"

Chuck slapped his forehead and closed his eyes. She was absolutely dense sometimes.

"Just don't even try it, ok Sam?" He tried to convince her to stand down, "The gun shots might attract some unwanted company…"

"Oh, ok. So what do we do now?"

Chuck rolled up both sleeves and gave confident grin, "Trust me, I got this."

He rubbed his palms together and faced the steel door with the computer padlock. He concentrated hard on the keypad and then forced a flash. Numbers flew passed his eyes until he memorized the password. Chuck broke out of the flash and punched the correct sequence on the keypad. The security system responded positively and the automatic doors slid open. Chuck smiled lopsidedly and beckoned Sam to follow him inside.

"How did you learn to do that?" She said amazed. Awe was in her voice as she walked cautiously into the computer room.

"Curtsey of my dad," Chuck muttered absentmindedly. He surveyed the medium sized room and took a seat in front of what appeared to be the master computer. He cracked his knuckles and began to type on the keyboard, using every hacking trick he knew to bypass the computer's defenses.

"The Intersect's a very interesting piece of hardware," Sam pointed out. She propped herself up against a vacant table and withdrew her I-phone. She began to scroll through it while Chuck resumed hacking in the computer mainframe.

"You can say that again," he mumbled and then hit the enter key. The computer made a ping noise, welcoming the user on to its profile. "Bingo."

"You know what it sort of reminds me of?" Sam put out.

Pulling up as many files as he could, Chuck dug his hand into his pocket and seized a small flash drive capable of holding any amount of data that one would want. It was yet another gadget created by the genius that was Orion. Grasping it between his fingers, he injected it in the space indicated for USB drives and tossed all the Intel into the empty drive.

Satisfied Chuck linked his hands behind his back and spun the swivel chair around until it rotated several revolutions. He leaned back against the chair's cushiony headrest and finally answered her.

"What does it remind you of?"

"An I-Phone."

He squinted at her with amused eyes. She wasn't looking at him. Her head was down and her averted gaze landed on her own phone. She had a smile growing on her lips. She was just as amused as he was.

"Why do you say that?" He asked her curiously.

"The Intersect can hold a bunch of information, so can the I-phone; they both need to be updated to stay current in the present; and of course, they have an app for everything that anyone could possibly want or need."

Chuck stared at her surprised. Wow, he never thought of that. Maybe that's why his dad did say he designed the I-phone for Apple first too…did he keep the initial structure of the Intersect and apply it for the phone?

"Has anyone told you that you have great insight, Sam?" He queried honestly.

"Yeah," She sighed and her smile faded, "My sister."

"Oh, you have a sister?"

"Older sister, hmm," She clicked on the touch screen and waited for it to load. "Deane: she's four years older than me. Tall, black hair and green eyes…beautiful." Her voice withered away when she found what she was looking for.

Chuck kept an eye on her for a lingering second then he turned back to the computer monitor. It was only at thirty percent. He grumbled and swung his chair back around and reengaged himself with the spy.

"So, what does she do?"

"She does what I do," She sighed again.

"She's a spy?"

"More or less, yeah…" Sam scrolled down her I-phone and barely acknowledged what was running out of Chuck's mouth, "To put it blatantly, she's my partner."

"What?"

Sam coughed into her hand and her dark eyes narrowed, "Deane Smith, or should I say Special Agent Smith….friggin bitch."

"Why's her last name different from yours?" Chuck pressed.

"Because Wesson isn't my real last name either, it's just a stupid alias," She explained further, "we did it because we thought it would keep us safe. If we aren't related, the bad guys wouldn't purposely go after one of us to get the other. We needed to stay detached and uncompromised."

Chuck's eye strayed to the downloading bar; it was at fifty percent. He inhaled sharply.

"I guess I know how you feel…about being detached and unable to compromise yourself with the ones you love."

"I know, I read your dossier," She answered back with a smirk.

"Nothing is sacred to you people anymore now, is it?"

"It hasn't been in a very long time."

There was a small beat.

"So, which picture do you want for your picture ID?"

Chuck stared at her serious expression. His eye twitched.

"W-what?"

"Here," She handed him her I-phone, "There's about a million to choose from and I just got this app a few weeks ago…."

He took her phone and stared at the cat pictures. Each one of them was of a cute little kitten that was too adorable for words. Written in horrible grammar were several of phrases that only amplified the cuteness. Chuck was at loss at what to say. How can he and Sam have a meaningful conversation at one moment and then literally a millisecond later, she shows him her photo album of LOLcats?

"Is there a reason why you have these on your phone?"

"Duh, they're cute," She retorted as it was the most obvious thing in the world, "And I just found the perfect one for Case. Look at this one; it talks about Captain Morgan!"

Unexpectedly, a man walked through the breached door and is about to shoot his weapon. Sam pointed out the endearing picture of a cat doing the Capt. Morgan pose and she laughed. Chuck feigned a laugh of his own, but he saw the man with the gun out of the corner of his eye. He was too late to react, but Sam (who was still concentrating on the cat pictures) drew her gun and fired. The bullet sailed and struck the hostile right in the forehead. His face jerked back and he was propelled several feet out of the room on the ground. His mutilated body was sprawled out with his arms and legs fully extended.

"U-uh…" Chuck choked out.

"Yep, that one has the Colonel written all over it, right?"

She still had her Desert Eagle out and the smoke seeped out of the muzzle. She dexterously spun the gun around and sheathed it back in her waistband. Chuck remained speechless.

"Whatever, I see that you can care less about this, so I guess I'll pick your ID out later…but you don't get to choose." She childishly stuck her tongue out at him and went back to her table.

"Am I the only one here that saw you kill that guy?"

"Killed what guy---?"

Her eyes snapped to the door and realization hit her, "Oh, him! Yeah, he's definitely dead alright."

"H-how did you do that?" He sprung out of his chair and flung his arms out frusteratedly.

"Do what?"

"Kill him!"

"Well, Charlie, that's a very easy one to explain. Its semantics; you take a gun, point it at your desired target and…" She mimicked pulling a trigger on a gun with her finger, "Bang!"

Infuriated, Chuck sat back down and glared at the computer screen; it was at eight-five percent. Yes. Almost done.

"If you can't manage to stay serious for one minute, maybe two…then whatever Sam. I get it."

Sam set down her I-Phone and she buried her head into her hands. She was exhausted.

"Look, don't freak out ok? You promise?" She lifted her face from her hands and told him sternly.

"Scouts honor," He showed her the gesture and she smiled.

"There's a reason why I joined SHEILD, same with my sister….you see, we're different."

"Different how?" He probed.

"I won't say that I'm like you, because obviously, I'm not," She frowned and bit her lip, "but I do have a unique ability. That's the only way I can put it. I was recruited by Director Fury after he read my sister and I's file. He got interested and defected us from our first job…the rest is history."

"What can you do, Sam?" He took his chance at prying further.

"I have sort of a sixth sense," She elucidated, "And no, it's not like that movie. I can't see dead people. I just know when things are going to happen; I can see what most can't. And I can feel it too. Like an aura surrounding every single person on this Earth. For example, you give off a wild aura. People are drawn to it…its magnetic almost."

"How is that possible?" Chuck questioned her, "Can your sister do that too?"

The lighting of the roomed dimmed almost if by on purpose. Sam stared at the flickering lights and her dark eyes shifted into a deep crimson red and then returned back to normal again. Chuck saw this and his slacked jaw closed and pressed itself into a thin line.

"My sister and I have our differences," She exhaled noisily, "but what's more important is how my boss will get you to join him. We need people like you fighting with us. There's a big world out there and interwoven with the spy world is another, far scarier world. You think that you're the only one with powers that come right out of a comic book? I thought so too, but you're not alone, Charles Bartowski."

She had nothing more to say on that subject.

* * *

Chuck grew tired looking at the nothing. He had his head sunken on the countertop. His hands rubbing his forehead to keep him alert. Sam was lying on top of the table doing whatever she does. Then a static induced voice shook him from his reverie.

_"Chuck, how is it going on your end?"_

Chuck brought his watch up to his mouth. He sleepily spoke into the speaker on the face of the watch, "We're all good. The driver is downloading all of the data and its taking forever. There was one baddie that tried to kill us, but Sam dealt with him. So yeah, it's all an okay up here. How are you doing?"

There was a soft rustling, probably Sarah and Casey talking to each other.

_"That's great, Chuck. Good job. We've gotten rid of all the Fulcrum agents in the building so we are just waiting for the two of you. We'll be back at the entrance, meet us there immediately after you finish, ok Chuck?"_

"Got it, see ya soon."

The communication ended and Chuck twisted around in his seat. He pushed himself up and shuffled over to the table. He noticed with weary eyes that Sam was humming in her half awake state, listening to some song on her I-phone. He carefully yanked out one ear bud and told her get up. She yawned and stretched herself out, then rubbed the sleep away from her eyes. Itching the side of her face tiredly, Sam cocked her head out of Chuck's line of vision and saw the computer monitor blinking.

"I think the download is all done," She yawned again and slid off the desk. She checked her weapons and made sure that they were loaded.

"Huh?" Chuck spun around and noticed the screen display one hundred percent complete. His lip curved into a smile and he hunched over the desk and placed a hand over the flash drive. His hand curled around the plastic memory stick and he pulled.

There was a blinding flash of light.

A thousand images raced across the screen and a powerful shock zapped up and down his spine. Nerves stood up on end and both of his eyes rolled every which way, gathering all the data he came across.

Sam set down her guns and raced to his side. She prodded his shoulder but received no reaction. Pursing her lips, she shook his arm and snapped her fingers in front of her face.

"Charlie."

She shook him again.

"What's wrong?"

Her eyes darted to the black computer screen. It was dead. Then her eyes fell to Chuck's hand, it was still clutching the memory stick. She looked at it interestedly and reached out to claim it.

"Major FUBAR," She whispered when she caught a good look at Chuck's face. It was frozen in an expressionless stupor. She waved another hand in his face but he still wouldn't react. His lips moved wordlessly while his eyes darted back and forth. She faintly could hear him whisper, "The man in black…"

Ignoring that detail, Sam closed her hand around his and she felt a small shock. She retracted her hand at once and sucked on her thumb, "Dammit…"

There was a cooling silence. The computer simmered down and the electrical charge surrounding both the machine and Chuck dissipated. Once it had completely vanished, Chuck regained motion. His eyes fluttered and he gasped for air. Before Sam took any notice, Chuck lost his balance and collapsed on his back, missing the chair by an inch.

Sam winced as he connected with the floor. She went on her knees and gently slapped his pale face. Chuck's eyebrows scrunched up in a distressed manner and he swatted her away with his hand. He slowly opened his eyes and when his vision cleared, he lifted up the memory stick and wheezed.

"Mission: complete."

* * *

It took a couple minutes to get him back on his feet, but Sam did it. She was proud of that fact because Chuck was a tall human being, and she, well, was not by any means. She propped his weakened body in the rolling chair and went back to the table to get her guns. Chuck eyed her weapons carefully with a contrite frown. When Sam picked up on this, she saw his lip twitch as he faked his worldly grin. She wasn't too fooled by it. Something was up with him.

"So explain to me again, what just happened?"

Chuck ran his blackened hand through his hair and shrugged indifferently, "Dunno. I think I just flashed. It was intense and a thousand times more painful, but maybe that's just what the new Intersect entails? Its flashes are worse so the pay-off is greater…"

She nodded, "But are you sure you're ok?"

He lifted himself from the chair and held a hand out to her, "I'm just peachy."

"Right, well let's get going. Sarah and Casey must be worried sick…" She licked her lips and then, "On second thought, Casey not so much. No offence of course."

"None taken," He laughed, but it sounded…off. Sam took the lead and led them both safely through the first hallway. She only stopped when Chuck leaned against the wall and massaged his forehead; a painful grimace appeared on his features. "Are you sure you're ok, Charlie?"

"My name's Chuck, alright, Sammy?" He snapped at her. He pressed the heels of his hands up against his eyes to relieve the pressure.

"Wow, calm yourself," she huffed and folded her arms, "Just because you got your ass handed to you by a computer, I'll let the 'Sammy' slip up pass, but next time, I'll end you."

"Ok, look, I'm sorry for snapping at you, Sam," He apologized awkwardly. He still had his face covered by his hands so she wasn't sure if he was being straight with her.

"It's fine, I told you," She reassured him softly, "Let's just get the hell out of dodge, ok?"

"Yeah, ok," He agreed with a shaky nod. He followed her until they reached the end of the hall, "Hey, would it be ok if I could hold that gun?"

She whipped her head around and stared at him oddly, "Huh? I thought you detested guns?"

He looked sheepish now and his eyes averted to the ground; his cheeks reddened.

"They're not really that bad," he admitted, "And if I'm going to be a spy, like Casey said, I need to know how to handle one, right?"

"Uh, sure, yeah," Sam stuttered. There was definitely something up with that boy.

"So, how about it?" He requested ever so innocently.

"I don't think we're going to run into Fulcrum," She told him, her hand was gripping dual guns tightly.

"Exactly!" Chuck expressed energetically, "So it wouldn't be a big deal if I could become familiar with it. It's not like I am going to shoot anyone with it…" His voice became carried away but he covered it up before Sam can catch on to it.

"Ok, just be careful."

She handed him the Desert Eagle with the safety on. He took it willingly; his eyes were glued to it.

"Weird…" She said for herself to hear.

They turned the last corner and finally made it to the exit. Sam sighed a breath of relief and turned to Chuck who was pretending to aim the gun and fire it. He squinted one eye shut and pointed the muzzle at the back of Sam's head, and curled his finger on the trigger. A predatory smile graced his lips until he mouthed the words, "Bang, bang, bang!"

Sam heard the three clicks of the gun, but pursued on. Once she met up with Sarah and Casey she could tell them about Chuck.

She swung the door open and spotted both of Chuck's handlers. They were sitting by the car, Casey was leaning against the frame, and while Sarah was staring at the building they were exiting.

"Hey, long time no see guys!" She waved at Sarah who yanked Casey by the hand and dragged him over to meet her in the middle.

"Do you have the memory stick?" Casey asked, getting straight to business.

"Of course we do!" Chuck chirped happily. He was practically beaming. He showed the Colonel the piece of plastic and twirled it deftly between his fingers. Casey seemed unimpressed and snatched the Intel from the younger man's fingers.

"At lest you did something right, Bartowski."

"Good job, Chuck," Sarah complimented him.

Sam saw Chuck barely look at her. He actually perceived to be bored of being around her. He shrugged her off and tried to get Casey's attention.

"Hey, Casey!"

"What now?" He said gruffly.

"Can I drive the Crown Victoria back home?" His voice sounded as wrong as he said it.

Casey laughed, "You're funny. And by funny, I mean, don't ever suggest that again or else I'll run you down with my car. How about that, 007?"

Like someone flipped a switch in Chuck's brain, his elated expression melted so fast that no one expected it to happen that quickly. His giant toothy smile flipped into a scowl. He knitted his brow in despair as his shoulders slumped and he tugged on Sarah's shirt, getting her to notice him.

"What is it, Chuck?" She was turned off at his coldness from earlier.

"W-w-why won't Casey let me drive h-his car?" His liquid brown eyes were swimming with tears.

"Chuck are you feeling alright?" She asked him worriedly.

His lips quivered and he looked as if we was going break down sobbing. Both Sarah and Casey's eyes traveled to Sam, who watched the event unfold before her like everyone else. Not knowing how to deal with it, Sarah brought Chuck into a hug and let him cry it out. He held her tightly until he was hiccupping and dry heaving.

"Sam, what is going on?" She said in a low threatening voice.

"He flashed on something on the computer." She rambled, "It was right when he tried to pull out the memory stick, it shocked him...and, uh shit, I don't know!"

Sarah looked to Casey who watched Chuck cry like a little boy. He seemed entertained.

"You said he flashed on the computer screen?"

"Yes," Sam confirmed, "I turned away while he was in the middle of the flash, but I did manage to catch some of the images displayed on the screen…it was compiled like how I thought the Intersect would be, but…" She trailed off, lost in thought.

"But what?"

"The pictures on the monitor were not normal pictures. They were like pop ups on a website, a lot of them. They kept overflowing on the screen over and over again. It was crazy."

Sarah petted Chuck's head while she mulled what Sam had said in her mind, "Is it possible for the Intersect to get infected?"

"Infected?" Casey repeated, "You mean like viruses?"

"Yes."

Casey thought about it for a moment and then grunted, "Shit."

"Oh fuck, does that mean that Fulcrum knew we were coming to get the data?" Sam asked frantically.

"I don't think it was Fulcrum," Sarah shook her head; "It had to be someone from one of the other Ten Rings. Maybe someone accidently—"

"—Or purposefully," Interjected Casey.

"—leaked the knowledge about the human Intersect from our database to the Ring's? Now they maybe know that Bryce was not the one carrying it…maybe they have a haunch that it's someone else….like Chuck." Her mouth closed when she struggled to remain in control of her emotions.

"So we have ourselves a mole?" Casey growled, "Great. Just fucking great."

"What do we do about Chuck though?" Sam changed the subject and pointed at the sobbing man still tangled in Sarah's embrace.

"I don't know—"

"--Sarah, it hurts!"

Chuck tore away from Sarah and held his head in his hands. He pulled at his hair roughly and moaned in pain. He backed up from the three spies and continued to mutter incoherencies repeatedly until he couldn't take the headaches any longer.

"Sarah," He whined like a wounded puppy, "You told me that it wouldn't hurt anymore! You promised that it would go away forever!"

Sarah got a confused look from Sam and Casey. She shook her hand and separated herself from them.

"Chuck, tell me what hurts please?" She asked him sincerely.

He hands shook when they fell to his sides. His eyes were shrouded by his messy curls and he stared down at the concrete, refusing to make eye contact with Sarah, or anybody else.

"My head…"

"It will go away, trust me, Chuck." She promised.

"Stop promising me things that you can never keep!" He shouted angrily at her, "You said you wouldn't leave me, but you always end up changing your mind anyway."

He wasn't making a lick of sense now. Sarah reached out for him but was rejected with a swipe of his hand. That same hand disappeared behind his back and in a flash, drew Sam's Desert Eagle.

"Ok, so that's why he wanted my gun…" Sam looked on in fright.

Chuck's hand was shaking, but his enraged brown eyes outlined in red locked on to Sarah's horrified blue ones. His mouth twisted into a cold and mirthless expression, one that she would never expect to see on his face. Tears still leaked from his eyes and slid down his ashen cheeks.

"Chuck, listen to me," Sarah begged, "There's something horribly wrong with you right now and you're not thinking straight. You need to dig deep right now, for me. Don't let this virus beat you Chuck. If it wins, the Ring wins. And everything we've worked for during these past two years will be for nothing."

His eyes twitched and he blinked to clear away the tears. Chuck's shaking hand steadied itself and his demeanor changed once again. This time his back straightened up and he became fully erect. He wiped a hand over his face and his distraught grimace was quickly replaced with a malevolent smirk.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with me, Agent Walker."

He curled his hand around the trigger and pulled it.

It was so quiet in the early afternoon sky.

Sarah closed her eyes, fully prepared for blackness to come over her.

* * *

Oh no, Sarah! And poor Chuck too.

Next chapter is chappie Six: Unwell


	6. Unwell

_An: Thanks once more for the reviews, loyal readers! You guys motivate me more than my parents do, which now that I think about it, is really sad… :/ Uh, anyway, here's the next chapter. I tried to do something different this time and write from multiple points of view; it's really just Chuck and Sarah._

_Oh and to those who got the little Smith and Wesson Easter egg, huzzah. Same with Sam and Deane too. I love comingling pop culture references from other shows into my stories, just like the Chuck writers like to do in the actual show. If you go back to Chapter four, there's another SPN reference if you can catch it._

_Pss. This turned out way differnt than I planned. I was originally thinking about approaching the climax differently, but I went with adding another layer to the Intersect mytholog. It pretty Sci-Fi, just warning you. But this is Chuck and the Marvel universe so I couldn't pass it up. _

**_Review as always!_**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Unwell**

She never thought about how she would die.

Ever since she had joined the CIA and became a spy, a part of her always knew that her time would come eventually.

But not now.

Not at this moment where the one she loved was her murder. He couldn't be the one who pulled the trigger so effortlessly, a satisfied smirk on his face as he intended to kill her. To watch her die in a puddle of her own blood.

When he spoke so coldly to her and cocked back the chamber of the gun, Sarah closed her eyes and wished that death would be painless for her. She never imagined that it would end this way.

_Chuck, please don't do this._

* * *

He never thought about killing anyone before.

The idea just had not crossed his mind. He was too nice, too genuine of an all around ordinary guy to think those dark thoughts. He was too normal to want to condemn his soul to a fiery hell.

He needed to kill.

But now he was driven to be unrelenting and murderous. Voices in his head, flashes of grainy pictures burned their images into his eyes, leaving their remnants in his retinas. Everything was so confusing. All of the absorbed information and the shock he felt when he tried to resist the urge to comply with the wordless orders. It was too much for him to take.

He couldn't control the necessary urge to aim that gun right at her heart. It was the place that caused him the most trouble anyway. That's what the voices told him. The beautiful goddess standing fearfully right in front of him would have to pay for hurting him.

If he pulled the trigger, the headaches would go away.

It was that simple.

All the conviction he needed to carry out and what needed to be done had been laid out right before him.

He had to do this.

His finger curled around the trigger and he flipped the safety off.

_Sarah._

She would want him to do this.

She would want the pain to go away.

Just like she had promised it would.

He fired the gun and prayed for forgiveness.

* * *

She stood without breathing.

Her eyes closed as she didn't want to witness her own demise.

Then there was a faint but audible click.

There was no gun shot.

She couldn't smell the smoke.

She didn't feel the sensation of fire piercing her skin and tearing into her flesh and bone.

No pain.

No blood.

She was still breathing, which meant she was still alive.

Sarah opened her blue eyes slowly and saw Chuck holding the gun, there was no indication of it ever being fired. Shocked to say the least, she looked directly at her would be killer's face; it was contorted up in a twisted scowl, too pissed off for words. She looked deeper and saw that in the depths of his eyes was relief.

Her heart thumped on like the beat of a drum and she began to breathe again.

Chuck was still in there somewhere, and it was her job now to find him.

When time decided to pick up at its normal pace, Sarah felt a shoulder brush bye her. Sam sprinted on, drawing her gun and then pressing it up against Chuck's temple. Sarah couldn't find her voice to tell her to stop. A hand touched her briefly and she glanced over to her side and saw her partner. His face was expressionless, with his mouth in a straight undefined line. His brows knitted together at loss for words.

"Walker, are you ok?" He asked gruffly.

She nodded.

He squeezed her shoulder and went to go assist Sam in subduing Chuck.

She watched the scene unfold right before her terrified eyes.

* * *

The gun was empty.

He felt a tremendous throbbing pain ring out in his head; enveloping his senses into oblivion.

His head told him to be outraged, to be overcome by anger and white hot rage. His heart told him to feel blessed that the big guy upstairs actually cared about him and her. The conflicting feelings threatened to drive him into insanity. They were tearing his mind into two separate entities, feeding him several thoughts both good and bad.

It was like a tidal wave of a thousand voices swelling up in the sea, and crashing down on him. Sucking him into its endless abyss until he couldn't breathe. He was drowning in himself.

He trembled where he stood. Anger was all he felt since the thing in his head had corrupted everything inside of him. He was blind and could no longer see her angelic face. He was deaf to reason.

A low threatening voice pulled him out of the raging current.

"Drop the gun, Charlie."

He blinked a few times and swallowed a lump in his throat. His distant eyes met with hers.

"It's empty."

He said it very evenly.

The cool metal pressed up against his head with more incentive.

"I said I would let you hold the gun didn't I?" She smirked, "Did I ever tell you that you'd be likely to shoot it?"

Everything she said came out distorted and warped. Her jumbled words made him dizzy; he parted his gaze from her and clumsily ejected the cartridge out of the gun. He fumbled with the piece and he let it drop to the ground. He sighed and another achingly bad migraine returned.

"You're smarter than I give you credit for I guess," He winced sharply when the words slipped out of his mouth.

She lessened the pressure against her forehead in fear she was causing him distress. His eyebrows drew into a pained expression and he collapsed to the ground.

"Crap, what's wrong with him now?" Casey yelled at Sam.

He was laying spread eagled on his back, his head and heart thumping in unison. His chest heaved up and down as he wouldn't stop panting.

The flashes inside of his head grew worse. They became rampant and unrepentant. Behind closed eyelids, Chuck was met with countless of horrific images. Every single one of them plagued his mind in a different fashion. As the pain intensified, he relived each individual altered memory. He screamed.

* * *

When he crumpled to the floor, Sarah looked on in horror.

Her body still wouldn't allow her to move. She was cemented down to the one spot, forever designated to never leave.

Sam dropped to her knees and crouched beside Chuck. Her gun was sticking out of her waistband and Sarah saw this as an immediate liability. She wanted to warn her but they were too far away, and she was so lost.

Chuck screamed out in anguish. She felt tears slide down her face. One hand numbly wiped her damp face. Her legs atrophied and were too weak to stand upright. Chuck's back arched into the air and he bit back a second cry. Nails scraped against the concrete for support, but his fingers kept sliding away and he wasn't able to get a solid hold on anything.

Sam leaned forward and examined his seizuring body. She grabbed onto one arm and urged Casey to take the other, "Hold him down so he doesn't hurt himself."

He nodded in affirmation and he took his asset by the wrist and pinned it down. With his arms held down securely, Chuck had trouble moving. His legs shook and thrashed around sporadically. He continuously would hit his head accidently against the pavement. It left a few stray red drops on the surface. Casey saw this and used his free hand to stabilize his neck.

Through all of this, Sarah looked on. Why couldn't she help him?

"Hey, Bartowski," Casey breathed into the younger man's ear, "Can't you just quit it? Stop moving for one second."

"No!" Chuck cried out. Tears clung on to his eyelashes and threatened to fall.

"Is he talking to us?" Casey questioned.

Sam shook her head, "I think he's just hallucinating…"

"God, Sarah, don't leave…please," Chuck begged as he cried her name.

Sarah brought a hand to her mouth. The wheels in her head began to turn and she regained feeling in her body.

"What is he talking about?" growled out Casey.

Sarah's thoughts traveled back to last night. Far after they came home from dinner at Ellie's, and just after they had made love for the first time. When they both fell asleep, she remembered. Chuck woke her up in the middle of the night, tossing and turning. She thought he was having a nightmare, just a—

"_Bad dream?" She had asked him._

_He panted softly, "bad dream."_

But it was something far more worse. She just didn't want to delve into sharing such private feelings with Chuck, even after professing their love to each other. She wasn't ready to discuss nightmares and dreams. It scared her, so she let it pass.

"Sarah!" He wailed.

She choked back a strangled sob as he relived his greatest fear.

His back straightened and he fell completely still. Sam and Casey exchanged worried looks. Suddenly, Chuck's eyes snapped open and he moaned out in a string of intelligible consciousness.

"I couldn't save anyone! Not one person—oh god it's all my fault, god dammit--!" He cursed heavily and then snarled a, "fuck you." His body went limp and his head dropped back down into Casey's open palm. He shut his eyes and cried helplessly; he squeaked out a pitiful moan, "No…"

Then there was silence. Chuck fell into a restless sleep, his prone form twitched and jerked around periodically in quick intervals.

"What kind of virus is this?" Casey placed a damp hand on his asset's creased forehead.

Neither did Sam or Sarah know the answer to his question.

* * *

_All he could see was himself._

_Chuck was sitting in the same park from his dream. He felt the grass between his fingers, the sun on his back. His eyes strayed away from the man sitting crouched in front of his vision to only find the six dead bodies of his loved ones lay face down and scattered throughout the clearing. The field was still bathed in their blood. _

"_This is just a dream," Chuck whispered and stared directly at the shiny red knife. _

"_Yeah, well you said that last time, didn't you?" His own voice echoed amusedly._

"_Get away from me," He warned himself and he scooted away from him._

_The other Chuck flipped the knife so that the sharp end faced downward. He stabbed the ground and left the weapon there as a peace offering. He held up his hands in mock surrender and took a seat beside his double. He brought both hands up and formed a steeple; he leaned his chin against them and smiled pleasantly._

"_I'm not here to hurt you, Chuck." _

"_Then what the hell am I doing here?" Chuck bit back, "Last thing I remember is reaching for the memory stick and—"_

"_Can't remember the rest huh?" His other self chuckled darkly._

"_What's happening to me?"_

_The other Chuck rubbed his cheek thoughtfully, "You're dying."_

"_Dying?"_

"_Bingo." _

"_Wait, why?" Chuck asked aghast, "How?"_

"_It's quite easy to explain actually," He replied with a loathing grin. "The virus that you stupidly uploaded into that noggin of yours," He tapped Chuck's temple and laughed, "is for lack of a better word, tearing you apart limb from limb."_

"_Virus…what virus?"_

"_The one that some Ring agent planted inside of the computer for you to purposely download, it's pretty ingenious, I'll give him that," his voice came off as admiring._

_Chuck pursed his lips together and he tried to recollect all of his lost memories. A light bulb flashed in his brain and everything returned to him. He jumped up to his feet and stammered._

"_Oh my god, I almost killed Sarah!" _

"_You're lucky on that one." His other half pointed out._

"_Lucky?" Chuck practically screamed at him, "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!"_

"_Hey, don't curse." The other admonished him, "it's rude."_

"_Can you shut up?" He pressed both hands to his ears so he could think straight._

_He felt calmness overwhelm him and he inhaled a deep breath. The other Chuck looked at him oddly and rolled up to his feet. He stuck his hands into his pockets and bounced on his heels idly._

"_You found your calm center yet?" _

_Chuck dropped his hands to his sides and glared at the shadowy version of himself._

"_Who are you, and why did you kill everyone I love?"_

"_Now we're finally getting to the thick and thin of it! Alright," He rubbed his hands together excitedly, "Well, Chucky boy, who do you think I am?"_

_Chuck felt like punching his cryptic doppelganger in the face. The other saw this and his dark eyes glinted in the sunlight. _

"_I-I don't know," He stuttered honestly, "That's why I'm asking you in the first place!"_

"_Think about it genius…"_

_Balling up his fists, Chuck struggled to think of an explanation. But then he realized something. _

_He didn't feel that overwhelming heaviness. _

_There were no headaches or feelings of nausea. He felt…normal, balanced. _

_His eyes widened, "You." He pointed._

"_Me," the doppelganger beamed._

"_Y-you're the Intersect?" He accused in a small voice._

"_Ding ding ding! We got ourselves a winner!" _

"_But, but why do you look like me…? And why were you killing my family?!" He shouted._

"_One, well, I'm essentially you…" The Intersect mused, "I am your daddy's greatest creation so I manifest in the form of God's will, or in this case, Orion's."_

"_And your vendetta against them," Chuck pointed at shaky finger at the dead bodies._

"_Oh, yeah," He winced, "Don't take that too harshly, Chuck. I was just trying to get your attention."_

"_For what?!"_

_The Intersect dropped his mildly interested demeanor and his voice lowered an octave. It sent a chill up Chuck's spine._

"_I was trying to warn you about the danger you were going to encounter today."_

"_You mean me killing Sarah, and everyone else?"_

"_I guess I'm not getting through that thick headed skull of yours am I, Bartowski?" _

"_Apparently not," Chuck snapped._

_The other's nostrils flared angrily, "The virus is controlling you and fucking with your mind."_

"_If it's causing so much harm, then why can't you do something to stop it?" Chuck challenged him hotly._

"_Because it's messing with me too," the Intersect answered sharply._

"_H-how?"_

"_Boy aren't you a man of many questions," he said sarcastically, "The virus is a Trojan Horse, Chuck. You should know better than anyone what that entails. What can happen if it's not isolated correctly can result in permanent damage to any computer…or even termination."_

"_Even you?" He choked out._

_The Intersect nodded sagely, "Even me."_

"_What can I do to stop it?" _

_The Intersected averted his eyes from Chuck's and his even face melted into a helpless frown._

"_I was hoping that you would know. You are the nerd."_

"_But you're the Intersect," Chuck accused, "You should be able to fix this with no problem."_

"_Computers aren't always 100% reliable," He sighed sadly, "They all have problems, glitches and kinks to work out. I'm just as fallible…and some of the CIA scientists were moronic enough to forget to install a simple virus protector into my hardrive." _

_His words died off into a seemingly endless silence. Chuck tired to absorb everything the supercomputer was saying, but for some reason, it was inconclusive to him._

"_If the Trojan Horse is controlling me, does that mean it can make me perform any action?"_

"_So far it can dictate your hormones and alter your emotions…something I'm not capable of," He huffed irately, "It can also feed you false thoughts."_

"_That's why I almost shot Sarah," He murmured quietly._

"_Yes. If it can do all of that then I don't see why it won't be able to access my Intel and force you to flash either."_

"_On information?" Chuck asked hopefully._

_The Intersect buried his head into his hands and shook his head exhaustedly, "Not likely. The virus wants your team dead Chuck, and you as well. It's going to make you kill them all, one by one."_

* * *

Sarah made herself move closer to his comatose body. Sam and Casey were both lingering by his side, staring at him, confounded. Still on her feet, she reached inside of her jacket pocket and pulled out her phone. Her hand shook and the I-phone rattled in her palm. She casted Casey a pained stare and dialed a number.

It ringed only once and then a weary voice answered.

"Sarah, what assistance are you in need of this afternoon?"

She inhaled a deep breath and shut her eyes briefly, "Mr. Bartowski, we need your help."

"With what?" He asked her confusedly.

"Your son…Chuck," her voice broke, "There's something wrong with him."

* * *

"_My dad can make this right," Chuck spoke up after the tension between them cleared._

_The Intersect ran his hand through his messy hair. It frightened Chuck to see another version of himself standing there, using his voice and mannerisms. _

"_Of course he can."He rolled his eyes._

"_What," Chuck narrowed his eyes, "You don't think he can?"_

"_Look," the Intersect snapped at his host heatedly, "I'm a little tense right now. If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to prevent this catastrophe from beginning every time you open your mouth!"_

_Chuck noticed it now. His double was sweating a bit; he looked feverish, with reddened cheeks and all. He was fighting off the infection from progressing further into its hostile takeover. Chuck felt kind of sorry for the AI's sacrifice._

"_Why hasn't the Trojan Horse started possessing me yet?" Chuck spoke lowly._

"_Other than me protecting you?" He furrowed his eyebrows in concentration and broke down to his knees, "Dammit…the thing is dormant. I kept it under wraps, expecting one of your friends to figure something out…or knock you unconscious..." He snorted, "That's our answer. Or at least a temporary one."_

"_Getting me unconscious?"_

"_Yeah, then Orion can get to us before we hurt anyone."_

_It was weird, but oddly fitting the way the thing that resembled him referred to their one body as "us," and "we." It was like they were joined together. They had a symbiotic relationship that was never meant to be played around with, or broken. Chuck's eyes warmed to the thing he thought had destroyed his life countless of times. He felt a kinship to it…machine or not. _

"_Hey, uh, Intersect?" Chuck tried, but calling it—him that didn't sound natural on his tongue._

"—_Carmichael," He cut in and bit back a moan._

"_Carmichael?" _

"_Just call me…that," He wrapped his arms around his stomach and a trickle of blood dripped down a nostril._

_Chuck lowered him down to the grass and placed both hands on his shoulders for support. Looking straight into his eyes, Chuck smiled._

"_I never got around to thanking you, Carmichael."_

_Squinting one eye open, the Intersect stared at him strangely, "For what?"_

"_You were the best thing to ever happen to me, virus or no," He said sincerely, "You're the reason why I met Sarah, found my dad, left the Buy More…and forgave Bryce." He thought about it for one more moment and then grinned, "You gave me this second chance at life. And I can't ever thank you enough for that."_

"_Even if you die today, can you live with it?" _

_There was a jolt of electricity and it shocked Carmichael. He squeezed his eyes tight and gave into the pain. His body went slack and he fell on his back. Chuck looked on in horror. _

* * *

Sarah ended her phone call with Orion. She pocketed her cell in her jacket and stared back at two pairs of anxious eyes.

"He said that he's coming over right now and that all we can do is keep Chuck asleep."

"What if he wakes up?" Casey got up and asked skeptically.

"Then we do everything we can to successfully subdue him." Her voice was calm and composed.

"Even if that means we end up hurting the kid?" Casey raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever it takes," She said with resolve.

Sarah receded back into her shell and Agent Walker came forward. The spy looked at him coldly and added:

"It's better him than us."

The Colonel tentatively nodded his head and left her side. Not too sure how he felt about it.

Sarah continued to set her eyes on Chuck's unmoving form, praying that she wouldn't have to face him in combat.

* * *

End Chapter 6

Next Chappie: numero 7- You Fight Me


	7. You Fight Me

AN: Reviews were awesome as always. Man I'm on a roll right now! Pumping out a chapter a day? That's just godly. I know that last chapter was pretty heavy and all, but this one is more action orientated and hopefully, funny. You get to meet a potential villian who i expect great things from in future stories. Hopefully in Season 3 they'll give Chuck and actual nemesis. Sigh. Well then, let the story continue!

**Review are welcome,d not abandoned.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: You Fight Me**

John Casey went back to the Crown Vic after he had settled Bartowski down. He unlocked the door and slipped inside. He did all of this wordlessly. Casey knew that he wasn't man of many words, but millions of thoughts were running through his brain and each one of them got him thinking.

He thought about Bartowski. How that idiot was dumb enough to let himself be caught off guard like that. He was pissed beyond belief that Sam was paying even less attention to the asset…no, his p-partner—crap he still couldn't bring that word to his lips. No, Chuck Bartowski still wasn't up to Casey's level, not yet. He was still a damn kid. He had all of the innocence of a puppy and it made Casey nauseas just picturing the moron's full brown eyes staring at him.

Casey sighed and jammed the keys into the ignition. He cranked it forward and the speakers blared loudly. He ground his teeth together when the interior of the car began to shake from the thumping of the base.

_"The jig is up, the news is out, they finally found me—"_

With both hands placed on either side of his head, Casey cursed that damn woman for taking control of his radio without asking him first.

_"—The renegade who had it made, retrieved for a bounty. Nevermore to go astray—"_

_'At least she had some good taste in music,'_ he grunted.

He brought one hand down from his ear and reached for the dial.

_"—This will be the end today; of the wanted man."_

He pushed it in and the music was turned off. The silence was pleasing to his ears, but it was also eerie. Casey pulled out his phone and flipped it open; he kept his head down and saw a text flashing away on the screen. He raised an eyebrow and pressed 'ok.' What appeared was short and possibly meaningless; perhaps a joke even, but Casey scrutinized it with two hard blue eyes. His lips parted and for once in a long time, he felt a twinge of fear creep up inside him.

**--Trojan Horses are a bitch sometimes, aren't they?—**

"What the hell…" he spoke barely above a whisper.

He tried to find the number who had texted him, but it came up as unknown. Confused, Casey shut the phone and sat it down. He pressed his head against the seat of the car and closed his eyes. He needed a break. It was hard to keep a façade of pure apathy around his team when what was happening at that very moment was slowly destroying him…and his patience. He massaged his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed to find his calm center, or as Bartow—Chuck said it, his angry center.

"Stupid, he's so stupid."

Suddenly, as he was finally caught up in a meditative state, his phone vibrated. Through hooded eyes, Casey leaned forward and glanced as the jumping gadget. It stopped for a moment and then vibrated again…and again, and yet again. After a full minute, it had ceased. Casey picked it up and saw that he missed four text messages. He stared at the phone like it was cursed, but decided to read the blurbs on the black screen.

**--You seem pretty shaken up by it, Colonel. Are you feeling bad that your curly-headed friend is about to die?—**

Casey dropped the phone and scanned outside the windows. He quickly drew his weapon and had a hand on the door's handle.

God damn bastard. Who did this guy think he was? Casey scowled and his eyes strayed back to his phone which sat on the passenger's seat next to him. His mouth curved into an undecided frown, but he let go of the handle and checked the remaining messages.

**--Scared you, didn't I?—**

He clicked on the next texted.

**--Hahaha, your face was priceless. =D —**

Was this some kind of joke? A prank? It had to be… He scrolled to the final message, his eyes widening.

**--Now be a good boy and stay in your car, k? I'm gonna call ya. Ttyl ;)—**

"Jesus Christ…"

His phone rang. Casey stared at it, reluctant to answer it. He was so tired. It rang more insistently and he picked it up after its third ring.

"What do you want?" He snarled.

A dark velvety voice answered conversationally, "You're quite the people person, aren't you Johnny? You get straight to the point, I like that."

"I've had enough of your bullshit; tell me who you are, how you got my number, and what you know about the Trojan Horse virus."

The man on the other line chuckled, "You must think I'm an idiot! What makes you think I'll tell you anything? It doesn't appear to me that we're on the same sides of the war, are we?"

"You're part of the Ten Rings," Casey accused.

"Close, but no cigar, big guy."

'Big guy.' The way he said it made Casey want to throttle him. That was reserved for…Chuck. Damn, he couldn't believe that the kid had made him go soft.

"Hello there, Johnny? You still with me?" The voice asked impatiently.

"Yes."

"Ok, so here's the dealio: you're little team is becoming a thorn in my side and quite frankly everyone in this business wouldn't be very heartbroken if something were to 'happen' to you and your people."

Casey snorted, "I get it, you want us dead. What else is new?"

He tittered a sickly laugh, "Ahead of the game are we? Well fine, I'll get to the chase. Your friend that's down for the count over there, Agent Carmichael I think. He was the unlucky guy who downloaded the Trojan Horse, correct?"

Casey didn't answer. His silence was reserved as a yes.

"Right, so the virus I constructed into the computer's mainframe was meant for the Intersect," He waited for a reaction, but Casey was still trying to process everything, "Those who were possibly infected by the virus, but lacked a supercomputer in their brain, they wouldn't be affected. Do you understand what I'm getting at?"

"You know that he's the Intersect," came Casey's choked out reply.

"There you go! Knew you had it in ya," he jeered and Casey heard the faint sound of a small applause.

Casey narrowed his eyes in befuddlement, "Then why are you trying to harm the kid if your people want the Intersect in the first place?"

He sighed, "I don't like my superiors. They're all money grabbing war mongers…always out to make a shiny penny, they don't stop and smell the roses. Or in this case, have a little fun with their nemesis. The baddies want the Intersect for themselves, but want your team dead. I don't give a shit what happens either way—"

"You just want to get paid."

"Didn't I just tell you that I don't care about profit?" His voice rose and sounded irritated, "I have my orders, but I like to drag out things. Agent Carmichael interests me and I want to see what he's capable of. He has such great potential!"

Casey lowered the phone to his chest. He stole a long glance at the front of the building; Sarah was pacing back and forth, waiting for Orion to show up and save his son. Sam was kneeling on the ground, still beside Chuck's fallen body. Why did he decide to take a five minute break? Shouldn't he be out there, protecting his teammates?

"You're insane," He insulted the spy, "And if you try to harm the kid at all, I'll kill you…I swear."

"Wow," the man whistled, "pent up anger much? Man, you must really care about your friend if you'd threaten me over him. It has me thinking, what would you do to protect him? How much would you sacrifice to keep Agent Charles Carmichael alive?"

Casey's subconscious asked him that every day. What would he risk for that boy?

"Today's your lucky day, or at least for Chuck over there. I'm not going to kill him, so you're welcome."

This guy was talking in circles. What did he want? He had no rhyme or reason for what he was doing. Those kind of men were the most dangerous to deal with. Casey had learned that over the twenty years in service. Out of all the enemies He, Chuck and Sarah had faced since they assembled into a team, they have never faced such a complex opponent. Once all this was over, Casey promised himself that he would go straight to the General and figure this out.

"Is there a reason for contacting me?" Casey finally spoke after a pause.

"Oh yeah, almost forgot! How stupid of me. In a second or two, I'd advise you to get your ass back over to your team. Agent Carmichael doesn't look to well."

And with that, the line went dead.

"Hey!" Casey screamed at the receiver, "What are you talking about?!"

He only heard the soft buzz of the tone dial. Fuming, he snapped the phone shut and pulled himself out of the car. In one hand was his gun, it was set upon the roof of the car. He looked over the Vic and watched as Chuck's feet shifted. It was slight, but with his sharp eyes, he just saw it. Casey slammed the car door closed and locked it. He rotated in a circle and searched the Los Angeles skyline for any figures hiding out in the surrounding buildings. He couldn't find anything.

"—Hey Casey, shouldn't we tie Chuck up or something?"

He shook his head out of his trance and spun around to see Sam yelling across the space between them. She was indicating Chuck's form with her index finger. Oblivious, she didn't see a hand move slightly and flex its finger tips. Before he could yell something at her, Sam was on the receiving end of a kick to her face. Sam lost her balance and almost fell to the concrete, but as she came close to hitting the hard surface, she was caught by two strong hands. Casey hopped over the Vic's top and ran back over.

"Sarah, step away from Chuck!" He yelled at her and waved his hands.

Walker stopped in her attempt to aid Sam and stood still when Casey approached her, out of breath.

"What—why?" She asked.

"Because—" He began but was cut off.

"—Because I have a loaded gun and it wouldn't be too wise getting near me."

Casey tore his eyes away from Walker's pale face and slowly turned to see Chuck up and awake. He was standing there, his arm wrapped around Sam's throat and a gun pressed firmly on her cheek. Sam's eyes were large as saucers, obviously not expecting to be stuck in this dire situation. She tried squirming out his hold, but couldn't. Her body went slack and she stared at Casey and Sarah, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Sarah, Casey, I'm so sorry!" She cried and the tears finally fell, "I-I wasn't paying good enough attention and he got the best of me. I'm so, so sorry…"

"God, you're annoying," Chuck told her truthfully. She rolled her eyes and he dug the barrel of the gun deeper into her face, "Make a move and I'll kill you in the most painful way imaginable, understand?"

She nodded complacently. Her dark eyes deepened into an evil red, but he missed it.

Chuck took his eyes off of his hostage and then focused his vacant gaze back to the two spies. He smirked.

"Empty your weapons and then drop them to the ground for me." He ordered.

Sarah exchanged a look with Casey, but he bowed his head and did as he was told. He stripped the cartridge out of the gun and held them up for Chuck to see. Sarah followed suit and held her two pieces also. Chuck nodded for them to continue.

"Why are we doing this?" Sarah asked him in a low voice. Blue eyes slid over to see his face. It was calm and focused.

"Just humor him, Walker."

She made a displeased noise in the back of her throat which almost came off as a growl.

"We do as he says and we wait until he slips up."

"What makes you think he'll make a mistake?"

Casey smiled confidently, "Because that's our Chuck over there. He's bound to do something stupid, it's in his genetics."

Both of them dropped their gun and they clattered to the concrete. Seeming satisfied, Chuck's evil grin faded prematurely.

"Now kick them away," He instructed.

Casey sighed and booted his unloaded weapon out of his reach. Giving Sarah a look, she did it too, but punted it harder than expected. She didn't look to happy about any of this.

"Put your hands on your head."

"Oh come on!" Sarah complained and complied.

"At least he's thorough," Casey whispered and placed his hands behind his head. He offered her a shrug and she shot him a dark look.

"Ok, now that's settled," Chuck released Sam and promptly cold cocked her in the back of her skull. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head and she crumpled to the ground. He stepped away from her unconscious form and pointed the gun yet again at Sarah's chest.

"Was that necessary?" Sarah asked through gritted teeth.

"I thought so," He smiled wickedly; "pay back is a bitch as they always say. Maybe next time she won't hand me an unloaded gun and I won't have to bash her head in."

"You're disgusting," She spat.

He tilted his head to the side and made a pouty face, "I'm disgusting? Really? I thought you loved me, Sarah Walker…"

His voice became low and hurt; it sounded so convincing, like it really was Chuck talking to her. Even though both Casey and Sarah knew in their mind body and soul that this wasn't Charles Irving Bartowski, and that it was something vile and evil manipulating him, controlling him like a puppet on strings. It was that evil being that wore his mask. This made Sarah's heart clench.

"You're not Chuck," She said with full conviction.

"Are you sure about that?" He simpered, "Let's see, I look like Chuck Bartowski. I sound like Chuck Bartowski. What more possible proof do you need for me to convince you that I am who I say I am?"

Casey stared at Chuck as the argument continued. His eyes strained the boy's face for a quick moment, but then fell on Sam. She was awake and somehow had managed to crawl up in to a crouched position. She shadowed Chuck expertly, her arms in a readied motion to make a move.

Sarah snorted, "It doesn't take an idiot to know what you really are." She took a daring step forward and then, "You're a worm! A diseased microscopic bug that's here to fuck with my…" She got choked up and her eyes burned determinedly, "…boyfriend!"

Rendered speechless, Chuck lowered his gun slowly. His once assertive disposition faltered, his grin melted into an upset frown. He stared at Sarah for a long drawn out moment, but said nothing. The blond headed female had her eyes dead set on him.

"You know," He finally started to say; "It hurts when you say such harmful things." He placed a hand on his heart, "Right here, that's where you got me," His wounded frown flipped back into that malevolent grin and he winked, "Girls like you are such ice queens. Why would this idiot fall for you anyway?"

Sam slipped her arms around Chuck's neck and held him in a chokehold. His arms flailed about, trying to grab her, but he couldn't reach. Sarah and Casey dropped their arms and hurried away from the line of fire. Chuck waved his gun hand and aimed it behind him. He shut his eyes and prepared to shoot.

"Get the hell off of me!"

Sam ducked and smacked his wrist, effectively knocking the gun ajar. A shot rang out, but the bullet flew astray. The smoking weapon went up in the air and Sarah rushed to gain possession of it. Picking it up from off the ground, she held it readily.

"Make sure he never lays a hand on that gun, Walker!" Casey forewarned her. She nodded and secured the gun in both iron locked hands.

Sam tightened her hold on Chuck as he continued to thrash back and forth. She applied more pressure to his windpipe, cutting off air supply. His feet dragged a bit, but he didn't lose consciousness. Pressing her mouth into his ear, she whispered.

"You should never ever be allowed to be near a gun, Charlie. You have horrible luck with them."

Suddenly, Chuck kicked her in the shin and she released her hold from his throat. She went down and broke free. He rubbed his neck and hacked away, his eyes stung from lack of oxygen. Regaining his posture, Chuck faced Sam and lifted up his foot right above her hand.

"See, I don't need a gun to deal with you. Chuck was right when he said guns only complicate thing…"

He stomped down on her foot.

Sam closed her eyes, fully expecting a sickening crunch of her bones.

All she heard was a pounding of heavy feet and a loud thud. She opened one eye to see Sarah offering her a hand. She took it gratefully and was pulled back up to her feet. The two female agents turned and saw Casey pinning Chuck down on the ground. He had him in a bear hug, with his large muscular arms bound around Chuck's arms. Chuck continued to twisted wrestle his way out of Casey's clutches, but the bigger man had the better hold and wasn't going to let go.

Looking over his shoulder, Casey shouted at Sarah, "What the hell is taking Orion so god damn long to get here?"

"LA traffic?" Sam suggested sarcastically.

"Look I don't know how long I can keep this up," said Casey.

"Just knock him out," Sam replied.

A light bulb went off inside the recess of Sarah's brain.

"Are there tranq darts in your car, Casey?" She asked him quickly.

"Of course there is!"

Chuck reared back and attempted to head but the Colonel in the forehead. The collision caused his head to fall on the hard concrete, his eyes in a daze.

He muttered painfully, "Not my best idea."

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Casey," Sarah called out, "I need your keys, and the car is locked!"

"Ugh, dammit," Casey grunted. He looking over his shoulder, his eyes landed on Sam. She was staring around, looking about freely. "Sam, get my keys."

"Where are they?" She asked blinking.

"In my back pocket," He told her while he rustled with keeping Chuck down.

Sam shifted balance on her each foot. She averted her gaze and scratched the side of her face.

"Can't you reach them?"

There was a pause. Casey closed his eyes and sighed. Even Chuck raised an eyebrow.

"No, Sam, I can't. Just do it."

"I'm not feeling too comfortable about this."

Sarah threw her hands into the air exasperatedly and turned her back on the scene. She slid one hand down her face and shook her head in complete disbelief.

"I find it weird that I have to ask you more than once," he barked at her. "Can't you see I'm slightly preoccupied at the moment?"

Sam considered this but still refused to commit, "I've only known you for less than 48 hours and that's not the way I roll." She made the hand motion.

"—I. Will. End. You." He snarled each word individually.

Seeing that he was serious, Sam jumped up and hurried over to him. She eyed his backside and swallowed. Closing her eyes, she whispered how this was not a violation of privacy nor was it an attempt taking advantage of him. Casey ignored her.

"Ok, I got them," She said weakly. Sam jiggled the keys in her hand and tossed them over to Sarah, who caught them and ran to the car.

"So," Sam licked her lips, "How's it going?"

"Are you talking to me or the hulking idiot that's sitting on top of me?" Chuck rumbled painfully from underneath Casey's weight.

"—I don't really think she was talking to you," Snapped Casey.

"Actually, I could be talking to Chuck…but he really isn't Chuck is he?" She pressed her lips into a thin line and contemplated the logic of it all, "This is confusing. You know what…never mind. I'm going to stop talking right now."

"Thank god," Chuck and Casey both breathed in unison.

* * *

Sarah scrambled around in the trunk of the Vic, her hands digging into ever compartment in search for the illusive tranq darts. She started to get annoyed when the deeper she looked, the more useless crap she would find.

Her hand touched a big metal pipe-like tube. She picked it up and saw that it was a missing piece to some rocket launcher. Not wanting to think why he had the thing lay around by itself; Sarah discarded it and continued her search.

"Casey you really need to clean out your trunk…" she muttered.

Then she found it. The dart gun and a pouch filled with sedatives. Thank god. She pawed both the pouch and gun; she shut the trunk.

"This saves us a lot of time."

In a lighter mood, Sarah walked back to where everyone was. But when she took her eyes off her supplies, she saw that somehow, someway, Chuck had broken free.

"You've got to be kidding me…"

Casey was on the ground, panting like mad. He held his forearm up to his nose; Sarah observed that's where he was hit. He was bleeding pretty significantly. Dammit. Her eyes traveled to Sam who was pinning her hair up into a ponytail; she stripped of her jacket and neatly folded it up into a perfect square. She then set it down on the ground and yanked Casey back up to his feet. She almost fell over in the process, but by using both hands, she got him up.

Sarah watched all this with an open jaw.

How does this keeping happening to her?

Shaking her head, she rushed over to hopefully end the fight for good.

* * *

"Ready for round two, Casey?" Chuck smirked.

"Bring it on Bartowski," Casey wiped his bloodied nose.

Passing him a sidelong glance, Sam offered, "How about a tag team?"

Chuck's weakened slouched position disappeared. He brought himself to his full height, excluding confidence. He looked between the two spies and waited for their first move.

"Just don't get in my way," the NSA agent warned her.

"Gotcha."

Before either one of them had the chance to start their assault, Sam caught up to them, fear in her eyes.

"Casey, I don't try and fight him!" She screamed.

The two spies turned and faced her.

"You saw what he did to the five Ring agents, she continued.

Sam looked at Casey confusedly, "What did he do to them?"

"He took them out in less than two minutes."

"Ahh," She hissed just thinking about it.

Then a perfectly arched kick came around and hit Sam in the gut. She couldn't get out of the way in time. She held her stomach and a rush of air spilled out of her mouth.

As she fell to her knees to catch her breath, Casey brought up his arms and blocked a right hook to the face. He dodged it skillfully. Chuck repeated the same back flip he used in his fight with the Ring spies. While he soared in the air, Casey tried at a knock out shot. It had missed obviously and Chuck stood a few feet away from him, a big smile on his face.

"It seems that you haven't learned your lesson from last time."

A foot swiped at his ankles with great speed, successfully tripping him. He lost balance and skidded to the ground. Sam rose back up to her feet and she was glowering at him, her eyes full with red.

"Good thing I took notes, huh?" She smirked.

Chuck growled and stood up. His dark eyes darted between the two fighters, assessing them.

"Last man standing," He stated.

"Or woman," Sam interjected.

Sarah screwed on the last piece of the dart gun. She looked up and saw the fight was at a standstill. She sighed. They really didn't need to be doing this. All she had to do was load the gun with a round of darts—

Each dart slid in and locked in the chamber. She smiled.

--and go put down Chuck like a dog. Casey had done it before, so why couldn't she?

Letting the wheel of the chamber spin one revolution, Sarah cocked the gun back and went to sedate Chuck.

Simultaneously, Casey and Sam attacked Chuck. He didn't react as they ran to him. He stood put, eyes staring off into space. It was like he was in the middle of a—

"Flash…" Sarah mumbled. Her blue eyes became giant pools, "Watch out, Chuck just flashed!"

It was too late. Upon approach, Chuck landed a right cross into Casey's jaw. Sam used her agility and ducked from another fatal blow. She did a quick backhand spring and lifted into the air. Landing it, she crouched low and took another shot at knocking him to the ground. Her leg hooked back and swung hard. Chuck's reactions had become inhuman and he bent his back, kicked up his feet up to the sky and planted his hand on her head. She saw his toothy grin and waved at her goodbye. His Chuck Taylors came down like an anchor and connected with the top of her head. Sam rolled over on the ground, holding her head in her hands as she moaned.

Chuck landed gracefully on his feet. His hands were in his pockets and he rolled his head around almost as if he was extremely bored. He stared at Sam in disgust, and then locked eyes with Casey.

"This is not nearly as fun as I thought it was going to be."

Casey curled his hands into fists, "Believe me, it's going to get fun soon."

"Show me," he challenged.

"With pleasure," Casey bantered.

Casey rushed up to Chuck and threw a punch, but Chuck cocked his head to the side and missed a sure knock out by less than an inch. While in the same smooth motion, he sidestepped Casey and swung out a round house kick, slamming his opponent to the ground. Casey's face smacked against the concrete. He struggled to get up, his hand were shaking from the abuse. He let his fingers feel his face and he ran over several lacerations and cuts, they were bleeding freely.

"This isn't even a contest, Casey," mocked Chuck. He was looking at his nails thoughtfully.

Still on all fours, Casey growled. He was still sore from the first fight with the kid. His looked at Chuck who was sauntering over to him; his own hands were still wrapped in a splint from his minimal injuries. Unable to summon any more energy, Casey froze. Chuck came up to him and patted his back,

"Its ok, you tried your best," He teased.

He took Casey by the shirt and helped the older man up. Now face to face, Chuck examined the Colonel. His face was bloody and bruised. He wore a look of defeat and this made Chuck's face break into a much larger grin. He gently slapped Casey's cheek.

"Hey, Casey, look man, I feel totally sorry about kicking your ass," he flash him a deadly smile, "again. Since I'm such a nice guy, I'll let you get one punch in."

Casey stared at him weakly. Then he launched a powerful fist aimed for Chuck's face. Chuck caught the fist and held it for Casey to see.

"Is that it?" He chastised the elder man, "I'm sorry Casey, but that's dreadful."

Enraged, Casey threw another punch with his left hand. Chuck stopped it with ease. He shook his head sadly.

"Didn't I just tell you that I was giving you one chance?"

"Go fuck yourself, Bartowski."

"Sorry about this," Chuck told him.

Casey's brows drew together in a confused expression.

Chuck head butted him in the face. It sent Casey back a few feet and then grunted painfully and fell on the ground. Laughing, Chuck didn't notice the dart gun pointed right at his face.

"Playtime's over, Chuck," She said seriously.

Chuck tapped the plastic gun amusedly, "What are you going to with that nice toy of yours?"

"This," She pulled the trigger.

But it missed.

Sarah looked at Chuck in disbelief. He feigned a yawn.

"W-wait, what?"She stammered, for once losing her composure.

"Check your hand."

Sarah looked at her right hand and saw that she wasn't holding anything.

"Looking for this?" asked Chuck. He was dangling the dart gun in one hand.

"How did you do that?"

He waved his hands around and systematically emptied the gun and tossed them over his shoulder, "Magic."

Sarah took a hesitant step back, but he followed her.

"So, it would seem that you have a little problem on your hands," he informed her.

"Oh, god I'm sorry Chuck…"

Confused, Chuck sent her an odd look, "What?"

She kicked him straight in the chin. His head snapped up and he flew five feet backwards. He hit his head on the solid concrete.

"For that," She smirked.

Chuck sat crossed legged, rubbing his chin. Her heeled boots dug into his skin, slicing it; blood dribbled down his neck. He scowled at her reproachfully.

"Nice shot," he complimented her sourly.

Putting a stray blonde strand of hair behind her ear, Sarah nodded, "Thanks."

Chuck sprung back up to his feet, more serious than ever, "Play time's over I guess."

"Yes…it is."

Their words ended in silence. Sarah stared at Chuck and vice versa. Both of them were waiting for the first person to move. The way the circled each other was like a choreographed dance. They remained keeping eye contact, dark brown and sapphire blue. Then Sarah threw the first elbow. Chuck slid out of the way and tried to kick her. She parried the kick with her foot and jabbed at him. The first punch missed, but the second one hit him square in the throat. Chuck gagged and cursed.

"Someone's overly confident in their abilities," Sarah said smiling.

"Bitch," He wheezed.

The fight resumed with Chuck jumping towards Sarah and feigning a kick to the ankles when he repeatedly karate chopped her in various places on her body. He ended his attack with grabbing her wrist and twisting it. Sarah spun with it so her she wouldn't break a bone, but it landed her on the ground. She gasped for air. Her eyes blurred from the sun. Chuck's form walked up to her slowly. He bent over and kicked her in the ribs. She heard something give way and pop. She screamed.

"What is it with all you people?" He shouted and kicked her again.

Another pop.

"You are all so damn weak! I thought that it would be harder than this to find the Intersect, take over the host, and then dispose of its handlers. It's a surprise that you've been able to protect the moron for as long as you did."

He stepped over her and reclaimed his gun. He checked for ammo, put the safety off and then cocked back the chamber. He twirled it around multiple times before aiming it at her chest. It was always at her heart. Sarah's eyes glazed over. Her breathing became labored as she was sure she had several broken ribs.

"You're really going to do this?" Sarah whispered.

Chuck looked at the gun and then at her, "Yeah, I am."

"Are you sure that it's even loaded," She bit at him frostily, "you don't want to repeat the same mistake as last time."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure that I've learned from my past mistakes. Third time's the charm anyway, right?"

The wheel in the gun turned and time slowed down to a stop. Sarah could feel everything still around her. She saw the emptiness in Chuck's eyes. It wasn't like the first time where he was present. Where did he go? He couldn't have faded away and let the stupid virus possess him. That wasn't like him…it wasn't Chuck. He was such a fighter. He was a hero, he was—

--That guy.

Her lips parted and she made her last attempt at saving everybody's lives including her own.

She hoped that he still could hear her. Hope was not lost yet. Even in the final moments confronted with life and death. No, hope was never lost. She believed he would come for her and rescue her.

"CHUCK!" Sarah cried at the top of her lungs.

_Please hear this…_

* * *

0_0 !!! Haha, cliffie again. Its acutally a lot like the One I did in chapter five...huh. How about that. But is the end game the same? Hmmm....

Oh and Virus!Chuck is such a douche...he is fun to write though! Hopefully our Chuck is back in the next chapter.

Next Chapter: 8 Anthem for the Underdog


	8. Anthem for the Underdog

_AN: Ok, first off, thanks for most of your reviews. Through this whole thing I finally got one negative humongous ranting review. Awesome. I know I shouldn't get pissed and take it as constructive criticism, but that was just—come on that was a tiny bit mean. Believe me, I totally understand that this story is getting unbelievable, Team B is not able to do the simplest of things (aren't there episodes that make Sarah and Casey almost idiotic?), and Chuck is evil. It not even Chuck, so I'm not compromising his character! The whole thing is that after what I saw when he took out the Ring Agents was that he could be unstoppable if he didn't have complete control and had given in to the power….uh and didn't anyone notice that I crossed this over with the Marvel universe? Anyone? Because that is a comic book world and anything can happen; anyone can agree on that._

_So, uh, sorry for the whole rant thing, I just kind of got semi-pissed off on that. I just don't understand bashing people's stories and flaming them. If you don't like it, don't read it. You can review and say you're "out" without making feel dead inside….that was a joke. Ha-ha._

_I'm done with that, now on to the actual chapter. This is the last one if you don't count the epilogue dun dun dunnnn. Enjoy those who have been with me from the beginning!_

_Review too._

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Anthem for the Underdog**

"_CHUCK!"_

His name echoed in the recesses of an empty mind.

"_Chuck…"_

A gust of wind blew through the clearing; blades of grass danced in the breeze, dried blood sifted into the air like crimson pollen. The sun was monstrous. Its hot rays beamed down onto his face. As his name continued to ricochet off the forest barrier that encompassed the park and held him prisoner, the heat from the hot ball of gas above intensified and was burning him.

His limp body slept on the green grass. Arms were linked around his head for support; legs were sprawled out with his Chuck Taylors angled up to the sky. He was resting calmly beside his double, which wasn't quite dead yet; _he_ was only deathly ill, hacking up blood and swaying in an out of consciousness while _his _body spasmed from the amount of pain _he_ suffered. _His_ strength was continuously being sucked out of him. It was only a matter of time until _he_ would give up the fight shut down for forever.

But he still slept relatively unharmed. His vitality was draining away, leaving him exhausted and fragile. It's not like he was giving up and calling it quits, he had told himself firmly as his eyes began to droop closed. No, he wanted to fight. He wanted to save the day and be a hero, after all of this was his fault in the first place. None of this would have had to happen if he wasn't so damn naïve. If he had just considered his actions for a split second…he would be awake; his friends wouldn't be fighting for their lives; and the damn computer in his brain wouldn't be sick and dying a slow death. But all of these musing thoughts were just in theory. They were all what is and shouldn't be. Maybe this was his destiny? To fight for his mind and body, not to mention his soul against an outside parasitic force, but to only lose horribly and slip inside an endless sleep as he lived his remaining time in this paradise?

"_Chuck." _

In the solace of his mind, her plea became quiet and forlorn. The bell-like song swam around him, tickling his nose, tugging at his limbs, doing everything possible to wake him. When it glided over him for the umpteenth time, it stayed suspended in motion and grazed over his lips. The breeze was soft and lovely, just like her. She spoke again, but with more fire and determination. His brows drew forward when he began to burn under the sun's fire. The desperation in her voice strained to stay hopeful and confident, but its strength had diminished and was finally swept away by another gentle wind.

At last, brown eyes snapped open.

He lifted his weak body up slowly. The blood rushed to his head and his vision came out blurry and uncoordinated. He placed a hand on either side of him to steady himself, to keep balance. Wide, confused eyes darted in all directions, letting everything sink in. He squeezed them shut. Then when things started to become clearer and a haze was lifted off of him, Chuck gasped for a breath of air, coughing as he sucked in too much at one time.

"H-huh, w—what's going…on?" He stammered weakly.

Then a wave of nausea shifted in the pit of his stomach and rose up into his throat. He gagged. Covering his mouth with both hands, Chuck kneeled over and vomited into the lush grass. On all fours, he panted wildly. The heat from above was causing him to sweat. Droplets rolled down his skin, burning slightly when it mixed into the corners of his eyes. Sitting on his heels, he rubbed his eyes wearily and waited for his sight to clear.

Winning back his composure, Chuck slowly raised himself up to his feet. As he did this, his mind finally began to work again. All six feet and four inches of him stood slouched over, heaving tiredly. He let his eyes fall curiously on the limp form that was dying a few feet away from him. Just staring at him, Chuck felt like throwing up again. That could've been him if he had chosen to sleep forever. This knowledge frightened him into silence. He remained standing hunched over like that until—

_--He was holding a gun, glaring almost manically as he aimed it at her heart. Her beautiful face was covered in small cuts and bruises; blood spilled out from those wounds.—_

Chuck's chest clenched tightly. It felt like someone delivered a hard blow to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He held his body and winced painfully. What was going on? It felt like he had just undergone a flash, but that was impossible…wasn't it? He glanced over at the body laying on the bloodied grass and—

_--She stared up at him with hard condemning eyes. She had asked him if she was sure he was going to go through with it this time. He answered with a yes. She was unsurprised, but braced herself for the end. Her famous last words rang out sudden and true, and she smiled as he cocked back the gun.—_

"_CHUCK!" _

He was thrown out of the flash with a start. He spun around, looking confused and out of breath. Everything was circling around him at a rapid pace; the trees became a blur and it was all a mesh of green and red.

All he could hear was her voice.

All he could see was her face.

All he could feel was the cool metal between his fingers as he threatened to pull the trigger.

His heart thumped painfully in his chest. The sickening sensation of wanting to end her life discouraged him, but he pressed on. That wasn't how he felt, became his mantra in his single-tracked mind. Something else was making him feel this way. It needed to end. Chuck swallowed.

"Sarah," He tried, but it came out as croak.

Could she even hear him?

_--He spoke her name. It sounded concerned and worrisome, not unfeeling and detached like he had spoken it moments before. Her smile twitched into a puzzled expression, but then gradually became enlightened and caught in a sense of bewilderment. Her mouth went slack and she tried out timidly,_

"_Chuck, are you there?"—_

Her words fired through every nerve ending throughout his body, all the way up to his brain. His eyes were still closed, but a beaming smile grew on his face. Oh yes, he was here.

"Yes, I'm h—!"

A sharp throbbing pain pushed him down to his knees. Then a monotonous sound buzzed into his ears, maiming his senses. Chuck buckled down and the world spun around him. He pressed his hands against both of his ears.

"_Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!"_ he begged out loud.

_--His gun hand began to shake wildly. Worried eyes became pained and then he closed them tightly. The reopened coldly and angrily, but he couldn't manage to fire the weapon. She listened to him mouth under his breath to just make it stop. She heard this over and over again, and now she finally understood what was happening: Chuck was fighting for control.—_

A hand tugged feebly on his pant leg. Chuck shakily opened up one eye and saw a familiar face.

"Y-you're going to have to try a lot harder if you want to win this," His dark eyes locked onto his. He smiled grimly. His face had lost all of his natural color and it resembled that of a corpse. Blood was dripping from his mouth like a fountain.

"H-how can I?" Chuck cried out at him pathetically. The weight of everything continued to drag him further down to the ground.

"Think about what you have to live for," was the cryptic answer. "You have a family; a handful of close friends, and a woman that you love…that should be enough."

"I-I can't…" His eyes watered and he shook his head. "It hurts too much, I'm not strong enough."

_--A trickle of blood dripped out of both nostrils. She scrambled up to a sitting position, still too weak to try and disarm him. She watched on as the gun shook in frail hands. _

"_Come on, Chuck," She told him, "You can do this. Don't let this beat you…" Her voice died out when a painful realization hit her, "Chuck, I can't always be there to save you. There's just some things you need to do by yourself and I have faith in you, I believe in you."—_

He listened to her through cupped ears. The pain was unbearable. If he thought that what he felt earlier that day was bad, then this had to be a million times worse. Was he finally dying? Was this it for him?

_--She didn't see the light in his eyes return. He was losing and her heart ached for him. What could she possibly do to make him fight harder? She said all she could and it did absolutely nothing._

_Her lips parted slightly in awe of herself._

"_Chuck…listen to me. I know that I'm the last person you'd hear a confession from, save for Casey, but that's beside the point," She added with a shaky laugh.—_

Things got clearer and he fought the gradual escalation of pain weighing him down like gravity upon the earth. The hand that held him at the seams of his jeans loosened and dropped to the ground. Chuck looked below him and saw his doppelganger approaching the end. Chuck resisted the urge to roll over and join his fallen ally; he remained standing. His ears perked up when Sarah began speaking to him once again.

_--"What I'm trying to say is, Chuck…" She licked her lips unsurely, "I love you."_

_Her admission hung in the stale air. She let it linger there. Then she resumed with more passion and assertion than ever before._

"_I love you more than anything. From the moment I met you, Chuck, y-you were just, it. I didn't know it at the time and it took me this long to truly understand, but I hope to god you can hear me because I don't want this to be the last time I say it to you." She ended it with a small sob.—_

Chuck blinked.

Sarah.

Did she mean it? Did she actually say that she loved him? Not like last time where she told him how she felt when she had thought he was delirious and sick the day before. Did Sarah Walker just tell profess her love to him?

He sucked in a deep breath and struggled to stand up. The voices in his head returned when what was real and fake were brought into question. They told him she was lying. That she was desperate to save her own life and that at moment's notice, she would turn on him.

He shook his head defiantly.

Sarah would never do that. She would never betray him.

That day on the beach when she asked him to trust her, he had took her word on it. He had based everything upon that solitary moment.

Trust. He trusted her.

He loved her.

He wasn't going to let her slip away from him again.

Not now.

Not ever.

--He thrust his arm into the sky and fired the gun. The gunshot stopped her from crying and she looked up at his tall form, blackened tears sliding down her ashen cheeks. He dropped the gun and it clanked to the ground. He dropped to his knees and crawled to her.

He held out a hand, open palmed.

She eyed him carefully.

He appeared to be so frail and weak. But his liquid brown eyes were aflame and seemed to glow; reborn again.

She took his hand and he pulled her into his embrace.

"I love you too, Sarah." He whispered into her ear.

She broke down, but all of her crying came out like choked laughter. Chuck couldn't tell if she was happy or sad. He guessed it was both.

Sarah dug her fingers into his back and remained in his hug. He gently ran a hand through her hair. A lone tear fell down his face. They stayed like this until Sarah felt Chuck's embrace go limp. She worriedly pulled back from the hug and gripped onto his shoulders, staring straight at his face.

"Chuck?"

His face had lost color and became ghostly pale. Brown eyes dimmed like a dying campfire, losing all strength and resolve in seconds. His lips curved into his lop-sided smile, at peace with himself. Sarah held his face in her hands.

"No, no, Chuck what's wrong?" She spoke frantically.

Blood ran down his nose, mouth, eyes, and ears. Her fingers were caught in the sticky mess, but she didn't seem to care. She focused on Chuck. Even though he had fought the virus off, it didn't mean that it was gone. It was attacking his body now, killing him. His eyes looked dead. His smile looked just as empty and decomposed.

"Don't leave me again," She pleaded.

Sarah wrapped him back up into her loving embrace. She rocked him back and forth, losing all composure. Before she gave way to a darkened bliss, her tunnel-vision saw the faint outline a man sprinting toward her, holding something in his hand.

She wouldn't let him go. Not today. Not now, not never.

Sarah dipped into unconsciousness with Chuck still in her arms.

* * *

**Two Days Later**

"Sarah?"

She shifted uncomfortably on the cardboard-like surface.

"C'mon, wake up," A voice urged her.

Her head pressed up against a semi-cushiony pillow. At least it felt cool pressed up on her head.

A finger poked her. She squirmed, her eyes fluttered and she went in and out of lucidity.

"Hey, I saw that. Open up your eyes, I have a surprise for you…" The familiar voice was warm as he kidded around.

She wouldn't dare open her eyes. Not when the events from what seemed like a lifetime ago filtered back inside her brain.

Chuck.

There was so much blood.

No, he can't die.

Sarah squeezed her eyes closed. She wouldn't wake up. She wasn't ready to confront all those angry and distraught faces when asked about their son, brother, or friend. She couldn't even confront herself.

She heard someone sit down next to her. There was a sigh and then a hand combed through her long blonde hair.

"Far beyond a visible, sign of your awakening," He sang in a small whisper. His voice was actually quite nice, she noticed, "Failing miserably to rescue my Sleeping Beauty…"

He stopped petting her and Sarah was lost in the silence. Her heart skipped a beat when his hand slid down and caressed her cheek. He was so gently and soft. She leaned into his touch, wanting this to be real so badly.

A pair of smooth lips ghosted over hers. Her body went rigid and a jolt of electricity ran through every fiber of her being. She welcomed the kiss with parted lips. He deepened it, letting it linger for the longest time. She blindly reached out to feel him. Her fingertips skimmed over his face which was riddled with stubble. Then she tentatively decided to open her eyes, one by one.

Everything was a blur. The lights overhead were bright and blinding. Wherever she was everything that surrounded her was blank and dour. It was stark white. Her vision cleared and when things started to come back into focus, Sarah saw him. She blinked. Was this heaven?

"No, not quite," he gave a short laugh, "But I can see you'd get that impression, hospitals are pretty deceiving sometimes."

Too many things were running through her muddled brain. It was hard to comprehend what he was saying half the time.

"Hospital?" She mumbled weakly.

His smile faltered and was replaced with an uncomfortable grimace.

"Yeah," He admitted.

Sarah stared at him for a moment; everything was so clear to her now. She used her hands to push herself upward into a more relaxed position. Her head pressed up against the headboard of the hospital bed.

"Chuck, what happened?"

A healed Chuck Bartowski sat on her side of the bed; he averted his eyes and looked at the cold floor. Sarah examined him for any signs of injury. She saw a gauzy bandage covering the underbelly of his chin. She winced when remembering that she had kicked him there. His fingers were wrapped with new bandages, Sarah assumed he reinjured them. Her gaze lifted from his hands and landed on his face. There were a few bruises just forming on the surface of his skin. All of the blood that was leaking from every orifice had been cleaned off. All in all, Chuck looked healthier than Sarah imagined was possible. She was grateful for that.

She placed a hand on his neck and he turned to meet her square in the eyes. He looked at her guiltily.

"I almost killed you, Casey and Sam." He told her sadly, "I pointed a god damn gun at your face, for how many times—oh yeah, three times. Each one of them, I expected to shoot you dead." He shook his head blamefully, "And if it wasn't for you…I-I wouldn't be sitting here right now…"

"Neither would I, Chuck."

He snorted, "Add that to the list."

"No," She brought herself closer to him. She tucked a stray curl behind his ear, "That's not what I meant."

"What do you mean then?"

"You saved yourself. I may have given you emotional support," that earned her a chuckle, she smiled, "but in the end, you got what you deserved. You fought to live and you won."

Chuck broke out laughing. Sarah retracted her hand and folded her arms over her chest. She stared at him oddly.

"What's your problem?"

Tears of happiness clung onto his eyes and threatened to fall, "T-that had to be the cheesiest thing I think I have ever heard you say!"

She smacked him on the shoulder. He wiped his eyes and giggled. It made her heart soar.

"I was having a moment, Chuck." She growled at him, "You always have your little monologs filled with cheese, why can't I have a say in anything?"

"Maybe you shouldn't," He shrugged and she punched him again. He teased playfully, "I mean, if we're going to be expecting those little gems right there from now on, maybe you should leave the inspirational speeches to me."

She balled up her fists, but her sapphire eyes lightened up tremendously.

"Just for that," She feigned a warning, "next time we are going to have a meaningful intimate moment, I'm going to cut you off, Bartowski. Just you wait."

"I'm counting down the days," He winked at her mischievously.

A knock at the door broke the two of them out of their staring contest.

"You can come in," Chuck offered.

The knob turned and Devon Woodcomb walked through, clad in a pair of blue scrubs and a white doctor's coat. He was holding a chart and approached the happy couple with a smile of his own.

"So how are my favorite brother-in-law and his very beautiful lady friend?"

"We're just awesome, Devon," Chuck responded dryly.

Not paying attention, the elder man took a pen and scanned over the chart placed on the clipboard. He nodded absentmindedly, "Awesome," He echoed.

Chuck and Sarah exchanged smiles, but stayed quiet.

After signing his name at the bottom of the form, Devon handed the clipboard over to Sarah. She took it and read it carefully.

"Here, Sarah, that's you patient discharge form," Devon said explained, "All you have to do is sign the bottom and you'll be allowed to leave."

Chuck raised a confused eyebrow, "Wait, why would she have to sign her own release papers? Doesn't she need a—?"

"—its fine, Chuck," answered Sarah. She wrote her signature and gave the form back to Devon. He placed it underneath his arm and thanked her, "It doesn't matter, so let it go ok?"

"Fine," He sighed.

"Before you leave, Devon?" Sarah grabbed his attention.

He spun on a heel and looked up at her, "Yeah, Sarah?"

"What are we using as an alibi?"

"Car crash," Devon said.

"—and my dad found us after you called him and told him where we were," continued Chuck, "He 'called the cops' and we were all taken in the ambulance to the hospital. End of story."

"Ok," Sarah nodded.

"Oh, Devon," Chuck asked before he forgot, "How's Casey and Sam?"

"They'll be fine. They're both up and about so that's good," Devon rubbed his face tiredly, "John was just badly bruised, he got a good bump on his forehead, but I've never seen someone with such a thick skull. That dude must have as many concussions as Steve Young…"

The allusion was lost on both spies. The locked eyes, but shrugged indifferently.

"Uh, but Sam, she was a different story." He shook his head, "Thanks to Mr. B, we found out that Sam has a severe case of narcolepsy. She had suffered from a pretty bad concussion, but since she hadn't taken her medication, she was at risk of falling asleep."

'Wow,' Chuck mouthed at Sarah. She repeated the gesture back at him.

"—so we drugged her up and until she was no longer at risk of slipping into a coma. She's fine."

"How did we explain her relationship with us?" Sarah asked interestedly.

"Uh, we haven't actually got that far yet…" Devon said weakly.

His pager buzzed and he read the text. He looked at the two spies.

"I need to go, another patient waits," He joked.

"Thanks Devon," both Chuck and Sarah said simultaneously.

"No problem. What are families for?"

The door shut leaving Chuck and Sarah alone once more. A daunting silence passed between the two of them, like they were stuck in their own little word. Sarah broke out of her trance first.

"What really did happen, Chuck?" she wondered.

"What do you mean?"

"How are you alive?"Her voice was hushed.

"My dad," He told her unblinkingly.

"Orion?"

"Yeah, he got their after I was convulsing and sedated me with a trial vaccination. That's what took him so long to get there anyway…" He stared at his hands, "It put me to sleep and isolated where the virus was attacking me…it was trying to inhibit my immune system and then work from there. After I woke up, he came in and told me he's working on an anti-virus program to upload into the Intersect. It should be able to protect me."

"There's something you're not telling me, Chuck. Its written all over your face, so spill it," She pressed.

"The Intersect was damaged due to the severity of the Trojan Horse," He sighed and shook his head, "My dad could probably explain it way better than I can, but my flashes are going to be spacey, erratic and maybe completely wrong. I'm a liability to Team Bartowski, but that's what I get for being a moron and not being more careful—"

"Stop blaming yourself, I told you that it wasn't your fault. It was just bad luck," Sarah conveyed.

"Right, bad luck…the story of my life," he whined.

"It's not all bad luck," She said sincerely and stared into his chocolate eyes, "You have me."

Chuck bore into Sarah's blue orbs and bit his lip, considering what she said. His critical frown twitched into a small smile. He sat up.

"You need help getting up?" He asked politely.

He held out a helpful hand and Sarah gladly took it. His fingers folded over hers and he hoisted her out of the bed and back on her feet. She wobbled for a moment, but with his help, she regained her balance back. Sarah noticed that she was in a patient's attire and she looked at Chuck glumly. He was in a nice pair of jeans and his light blue T-shirt that read: Cowbell Hero. She smirked.

"I'm not leaving dressed like this."

"Of course not," Chuck rolled his eyes and went to a visitors seat where a plastic bag sat, "I wouldn't expect you to. So being the charming boyfriend I am, I brought you a nice change of clothes. Save your thanks for later, I'm just naturally a goodhearted person."

He handed her the bag and she looked inside, "You're such a philanthropist, Chuck." She complimented him and emptied the bag, revealing a nice spring dress and a pair of high heel shoes. At least he had taste.

His face brightened at the praise, he beamed proudly, "You know it. I'm doing God's work here..." And then his jaw hit the floor.

She untied the patient's garment and handed it to him. It slipped out of his fingers and she stared at him innocently.

"You'll never get used to me being undressed, will you?"

!!!!

Out in the waiting room, Ellie Bartowski sat impatiently (her shift was over) waiting for her little brother and his girlfriend to leave their room. Sure Chuck had been up for the last twelve hours or so, but that didn't mean she had a chance to talk to him. He was being oddly distant to her. To everyone really, even to their father. Since waking up, all Chuck lived for was Sarah. He found her room and barricaded himself in there until she would awaken. So that left Ellie to contend with John Casey, and the mystery girl who seemed to be smitten with her neighbor. She looked at the two oddly. Casey was sitting on a bench with his eyes closed. The younger woman was right beside him, leaning against him and trying to sleep peacefully.

She stared at them strangely. Morgan was sitting next to her and he too looked at the odd couple.

"What do you think their story is?" He asked, making conversation.

"Shouldn't you be in Hawaii, Morgan?" She responded coldly.

"Hey, when I heard that my best friend was involved in a car accident, I took the earliest red eye flight and flew back here as fast as I could…"

She raised an eyebrow, "Morgan?"

"—and I was kicked out at the Benihana culinary school," He finished with a bow of the head.

"Really?" she mocked disbelief, "I guess someone owes me twenty dollars then…" She smiled wistfully.

Morgan snapped his head and faced her, "Wait what?"

"Dad," She turned to her left and held out her hand.

Steven Bartowski was sitting crossed legged in his chair, reading a Buy More catalogue. He folded the magazine and reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. He took out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to his daughter with a sigh. Then he went back to his reading.

"My sweet Ellie, please don't tell me you were betting on how long I'd last in paradise?"

"It wasn't just me," She placed her winnings in her scrubs pocket, "We had a whole betting pool with the Buy More employees…it was a really big event actually."

"That's just discouraging," Morgan shook his head and folded his arms, "You should've at least won more than a twenty."

"Its twenty per person," She commented airily, "I still need to collect from Devon, John, Chuck, your weird friends at the Buy More, and your mom…"

"My own mother bet against me?!" Morgan asked outraged.

Sam was startled out of her sleep. She looked around her wearily and noticed she was lying against Casey. She blushed and parted from him. He grunted and opened up his eyes. He stared at her sleepily.

"What did I say about touch—"

"Oh John, you're awake," Ellie cut him off in mid threat.

His face undergone his menacing scowls and reverted into a seemingly real smile.

"Hi Ellie," He looked at the bearded man and added, "And troll."

Sam snickered. She yawned loudly and stretched herself out into a Y. Then rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she asked, "Is Sarah up yet?"

"I think she's getting ready right now," Ellie said with a shrug and then pried, "So I never got a chance to ask you your relation to my brother. Do you know him from work, or do you know Sarah or John?"

"Actually," Steven interjected lightly, "Sam is John's little sister."

Sam blinked. Casey growled at the elder Bartowski. God damn that man.

The SHIELD agent's brain clicked and she beamed a huge smile and then proceeded to envelop Casey in a loving hug. He tried to twist out of it but failed miserably.

"Oh, I mean, wow," Ellie said surprised, "John, I didn't know you had any siblings."

Casey opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted.

"Aw, Johnny here is such the silent lone wolf type," Sam smiled brightly, "He's so quiet about everything; he likes to keep to himself most of the time. But once you get to know him, he's just a big teddy bear! Right, big brother?"

She looked at him with a sweet expression. He grunted.

Sam got up and reached over to shake Ellie's hand, "Hi, I'm Samantha Casey, nice to meet you."

"Ellie Barto---I mean, Woodcomb," She corrected herself quickly, "nice to meet you too."

Casey glowered at Orion who was hiding his face from behind the magazine. He was chuckling.

God, he hated this whole family.

!!!

He zipped her dress up and watched as she spun around, examining the powder blue fabric in delight. Chuck smiled at her when she slowed down to a stop and faced him. She took his hand and rubbed it slowly.

"Where did you find this dress, Chuck?" she asked him curiously, "This isn't mine."

"Uh, well," Chuck looked the other way briefly, as if embarrassed, "You remember when I invited you on an all exclusive vacation to the destination of your choice with yours truly?"

"Yes," She said slowly, cringing at the memory.

"Well, not knowing that you were going to turn me down, I-uh, used some of the money the government gave me and went and bought you that dress…for the trip." His face grew beet red.

Sarah stepped toward him, placing a hand on his waist; she leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

"Thank you for the dress," she said.

"You're welcome…it looks very uh dapper on you?" He tried out using one of the words Sarah used to describe him. She giggled and patted his shoulder.

"Nice Chuck."

She went for the door. He craned his neck and stared at her thoughtfully.

"Wait, are you laughing at me?"

"Maybe."

He hurried over to her and opened the door for her, "Look at me, I can be debonair, so don't make fun of me."

Sarah didn't respond only shook her head and smiled.

"Ready for twenty questions with the family?" Chuck asked her.

"I was born ready," She deadpanned.

The held each others' hands and turned around the hall and made their way to the waiting room.

* * *

**Somewhere in Washington DC**

He was hidden up on the top floor of the building. He was on his stomach, staring through a scope magnifying his target by tenfold. A remote was sitting on the ground beside him and he eagerly waited for the call. He always got so anxious for moments like these. It actually got his heart to make that strange thumping noise, you know, the one that makes someone feel so….alive?

Dark raven bangs fell on his forehead and he ran his gloved hand through his messy hair, pushing them out of the way. He liked his lips in anticipation when he saw one of his potential marks entering the government facility. It was only a matter of time until the meeting started. Then Ka-boom! That place would light up like the Fourth of July.

He pocketed his scope and took out his phone; it had been vibrating for awhile now. He grunted and put it up to his ear.

"Howdy."

"Why the hell haven't you been answering your phone?" A gruff voice asked him irately.

He scrunched up his nose in equal annoyance; he didn't like this guy telling him what to do.

"Because I like to avoid having conversations like these," was his answer.

"Ha-ha, you're such a comedian, now let's cut the bullshit and get down to what actually matters."

"Killing a room filled with a bunch of high level security government officials, you mean?" He slid off his belly and leaned back on the concrete ledge, pulling out a Corona beer. He took a swig and smacked his lips, "Let's get this party started then."

"Did I just hear you crack open a beer?"

Pause.

Another sip.

"So, what if you did?" He asked challengingly.

There was a long sigh on the other line, "I'm not even going near that one with a ten foot pole."

"You have a ten foot pole!" He said in mock awe, "Ooh, where did you get it, I want one!"

"It's a figure of speech, you idiot."

He sat the beer bottle down and placed a nice slick pair of Aviators on his face. It covered his dark hostile blue eyes.

"So," he began after a long pause, "when do I get to push the big red button?"

"In T-minus 10, 9, 8, 7, 6—"

"5, 4, 3, 2, and….!"

He flipped the remote's switch and closed his eyes as he pressed the looming red button.

"1!"

At first there was nothing and he actually looked kind of let down. But a second went by and as soon as he scrambled up to his feet, ready to give his employer hell for giving him a faulty bomb, there was loud BOOM! And then came the terrifying explosion.

Glad he brought his sunglasses; he felt the debris from the destruction blow past him. The heat from the flames could be felt all the way where he was. He let out a satisfied laugh and emptied the rest of his Corona. Making sure to deposit it in the trash can, he padded across the balcony aimlessly, stepping over the litter of broken and unmoving bodies. He threw it away and lifted the phone to his ear once more.

"Mission a success?" He asked not in the least bit curious.

"We shall see soon enough," was the reply.

"Nice working with you again. Have a great time at the bad guys convention Mr. Hammer!"

"You continue to surprise me, Walter. We will contact you next time we need your assistance."

"I'm an endless bag of surprises," Walter replied wittily but only heard the dial tone.

"Jerk," he mumbled and made his way down the fire escape with his gun at the ready.

* * *

While Sam talked animatedly with the Bartowskis and the bearded troll about her non-existent relationship between him and her, Casey idly waited as patiently as possible for the nerd and Walker to join them. Then maybe they could leave this hell hole and go debrief General Beckman on the mission.

"—and so, Johnny and I were riding our bikes down the neighborhood and he bet me that he could ride down the big hill without holding onto the handlebars!"

Ellie nodded and laughed, stealing a glance at Casey. Morgan snickered while Steve had moved on to yet another magazine. This time it was a Time Magazine. The cover had a giant picture of a middle-aged, but extremely good looking man giving a speech on a podium in front of a mob filled with paparazzi and journalists. He was flashing a giant, albeit cocky grin. The Air Force officer, or maybe Colonel, Casey guessed, who was standing once respectfully by him, stared in shock with his mouth open and eyes bulging out of his skull.

The title read:** One Year from today, Mr. Stark still keeps America and the World on their Toes. **The subtitle read:** Is Arc Reactor technology really a Hoax? Let Iron Man tell you himself. **

Casey grunted uninterestedly. Tony Stark. Humph. He was just some pretty playboy billionaire looking to stay in the limelight. Then his mind traveled to the suit. The beautiful armored suit made out of a titanium alloy that was damn near indestructible. Sometimes, Casey wanted nothing more than just to be able to use that suit. So he could blow something up.

Just once.

Shaking his head out of his fantasies, he heard Sam cracking both Ellie and Morgan up with choked laughter.

"—so he let go of the handlebars, right?" She snorted laughing, "And he went down that hill so fast that no one could stop him, not even mom or dad could catch up and tell him to stop. Johnny just kept going until things were going too fast for him. He reached for the breaks, but he used the front wheel one instead of the back brakes and—" She stood up and used her fingers to show an imaginary Casey tumbling down the remainder of the hill, "—he landed right on his face…and that's how he got that nasty scar on his cheek."

Both of their phones became to vibrate simultaneously. Casey got up and urged Sam to do the same.

"Sorry about the interruption," Sam apologized, "But speaking of family matters, we have some personal things to discuss. Right, Johnny?"

"Just follow me." He growled and yanked her down the hallway, just passing Chuck and Sarah who stared at them oddly.

"What's going on?" Chuck began, but Casey didn't stop for him.

"C'mon Chuck, we'll find out later," Sarah lead him to the waiting room.

"—so who thought that Sam was Casey's sister?" Morgan asked incredulously.

"What the hell?" Chuck whispered to Sarah.

"I have no clue," was Sarah's immediate response.

"I actually thought they were in a romantic relationship," Ellie said, seeming disgusted for considering it.

"—what are you guys talking about?"

Morgan jumped out of his seat along with Ellie.

"Chuck!"

Morgan ran up to his best friend and enveloped him in a bear hug. Chuck slapped him on the back.

"Buddy, what happened to becoming a Benihana chef, I thought that was your dream?"

Morgan eyed him carefully, "Dude, I know about the bet. You can drop the act."

"I'm sorry, Morgan," he said honestly, "if it's any consolation, I tried to give you the most time."

"Speaking of that," Ellie interrupted slyly. She released Sarah from a hug and stared down her brother, "You owe me twenty."

"Ellie, I'm kind of tight with money right now. Can't I just pay you pack later?"

"Sure," she said, "I'll keep a tab. Sarah don't you think you're going to get out of it either."

"So, I'm allowed to leave?" Sarah changed the subject quickly.

"Absolutely. It's just hospital policy that you need to be escorted out in a wheelchair," the elder Bartowski informed her.

"That's fine I guess."

"Here, I'll go get it for you," she offered kindly.

"Wahoo!" Morgan whooped loudly, arms in the air.

Ellie, Sarah, and Steven all turned to see Chuck pushing his best friend in a wheelchair. Ellie rolled her eyes and sighed.

"Children, can I have shiny rolling chair back?" She teased them.

The wheelchair skidded to a stop, tossing Morgan out on the floor. Chuck chuckled under his breath and offered it to Sarah. She sat down and Chuck proceeded to take her down the hall where Casey and Sam had disappeared to.

"Do I really need to have this?" Sarah asked him.

Chuck pushed her along, obviously enjoying himself. He looked down the hall and saw Casey in a heated argument with Sam. It wasn't their usual banter either. Chuck ignored Sarah's complaining and rushed down the empty hall, pulling Sarah along with him.

"Hey, Casey! Sam!" He yelled at them both.

They continued to glare at each other. Like enemies.

He stopped the wheelchair, letting Sarah hop out and meet him the rest of the way there. When all four of them were in the very end of the hall, Chuck intervened between the two hot headed ones and broke them up.

"I get that you guys don't like each other, "Chuck panted, still weak, "but fighting? Really, we are adults here, violence doesn't solve everything."

"It does when we have a traitor on our hands." Casey growled out and pointed at Sam. She glowered at him, her eyes flickering into a dark red.

Sarah faced Sam confusedly, "Sam…"

"Maybe if some people don't jump to conclusions so quickly we wouldn't be at each other's throats, blaming someone who's so blatantly innocent!"She snapped at the large man.

"What's going on?" Chuck questioned. He looked between the two for an answer.

"We both got a call from our agencies," Casey began, sending Sam a displeased stare, "about ten minutes ago, there was an explosion in DC—"

"—there was a meeting going on between the high ranked officials from the CIA, NSA, FBI, DEA, and even Whitehouse correspondents." Sam continued sourly, "NSA assassin man here thinks that since my boss was somehow not present at the meeting, that it's enough concrete evidence to say that SHIELD is responsible for this terrorist attack!"

"Fury wasn't there?" Sarah said worriedly.

"Yeah, but the General sure was," Casey revealed in a low voice. He looked visibly upset.

"Oh my god, is she—?" Chuck began but couldn't finish.

"We don't know yet," he replied, "It's still too early to go in the disaster zone and assess the damage. It could be hours…days before we find out if she's still alive."

"So to sum up our current situation, we have no superior to answer to, the Intersect is defective, all government affiliations are in shambles, and we have no clue who is behind it…awesome," Chuck drove it all home with a sarcastic chuckle.

After his assessment, Team Bartowski sat in silence. Sam stared at the floor, lost in thought. The real question now was where do they go from here? What can they do now?

It was still so early in the game and not a single one of them had a clue.

* * *

**End Chapter.**

**An: Wow last chapter done! Now all is left is the Epliogue---The Initiative. **

**Please oh please review and tell me what you think! A sequel depends on it!**


	9. Epilouge: The Initiative

**An: So here's the very last chapter. And its a very exciting thing for me because this is the first Chuck fic that i've actually finished! Yay me! Hope you like this final ending...I'm already outlining the sequel, which will be title: Chuck Vs the Initiative. Hopefully, i'll have chapter one done by next week. Crossing my fingers. Anyway, enjoy!**

**And dont' forget to review!!!**

* * *

**Epilouge: The Initiative **_**Five Days Later…**_

"Are you ready to leave?"

"Yeah, just hang on a sec; I forgot something back at the Castle!"

"Idiot"

"Hey, don't call him that! He's a nice person!"

Chuck left the two quarrelling spies, and Sarah behind. He shook his head as he bypassed the metal door, not paying any attention to the breeched security warning that blinked wildly on the keypad's surface. Instead, the reluctant spy hurried down the staircase leading him down to the base of operations. Everything was dark. Almost tripping down the last flight of stairs, Chuck reached blindly for the handrail and just barely caught it before taking a painful tumble. Sighing a breath of relief, he took his time descending the remainder of the way down. At the bottom, he felt the wall, searching for a light switch. Feeling the small indent, he pressed it but nothing happened. In fact, now that Chuck got a chance to get familiar with his surroundings, he noticed that everything was obscured by shadows. Not even the computers were working.

"That's just perfect," he spoke aloud in the darkness, "I can't even find where I misplaced my stuff…"

Parting from the wall, Chuck let his eyes adjust to the darkness. His pupils dilated and he saw the outline of someone sitting in a chair, his back facing him. Chuck tilted his head to the side and then began to freak out once realization hit. He slowly crept toward the figure, hopeful that he wasn't expecting anything.

_'Now would be a good time to flash,'_ Chuck suggested to the supercomputer that was currently down for maintenance. _'Dad, why couldn't you have gotten me fixed sooner?_'

Then the lights flashed on and the Castle became fully operational. Chuck looked around in a complete daze. He was seeing dots and blurred images. He covered his eyes and rubbed them gently.

"It's nice to finally meet the Human Intersect," came a deep amused voice.

Chuck stopped what he was doing. He dropped his hands from his face and let them fall limply back on to his sides. Sitting in the chair was a tall, overly imposing African American male. He was wearing all black and had an intimidating eye patch slung over his face. Chuck gulped, but before he could react, there was a familiar sensation that he hadn't felt in over a week: he flashed.

_The images that included started off with the name: Nicholas Fury. His occupation: Director of the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement, and Logistics Division-SHIELD with a level 10 clearance. Then hundreds of different highly classified projects, each of them had the name Avengers Initiative labeled across. They stretched from familiar names such as, Tony Stark, Iron Man, and the old WWII hero: Captain America. Then in the unknown territory was a scientist named Bruce Banner with the connection to that huge green monster that made a mess of New York City almost a year prior. Its code name was: The Hulk. Then an array of the names of special agents such as: Natalia Romanova (The Black widow), Clint Barton (Hawkeye), Henry and Janet Pym (Yellow Jacket and Wasp), Deane Smith and then finally, Samantha Wesson._

Since not being accustomed to the strength of the new flashes, Chuck winced and fell to his knees. He had a pounding headache. When the Intersect's images faded out of his brain, Chuck opened his eyes slowly to see a large hand offering him help. He tentatively took the man's hand and he hoisted him back up to his feet almost effortlessly. He then sat back down in the chair and presented Chuck with chair to sit down. Never taking his eyes off of him, Chuck complied and sat down in the seat.

"My handlers will wonder where I am eventually," Chuck warned him, "All I have to do is scream as loud as I can and—"

"—you're not a woman, Chuck, so don't threaten me with your handlers; they don't scare me in the slightest."

This shut Chuck up.

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

Fury smiled pleasantly, "I'm here to make you an offer."

Chuck pushed himself out of the chair and shook his head rapidly.

"No way!" He pointed at the older man's face, "Sam told me about you and your unorthodox methods of convincing people to join you, but I'm not buying it, ok? All you do is scare me, with your leather jacket, bald head….and your eye patch!"

The Director of SHIELD folded his hands on the table and took everything the boy had to say to heart. A moment went by and he couldn't hold it in anymore. The man barked a laugh.

About to walk away, Chuck froze. He spun around and faced Fury and asked, "W-why are you laughing?"

"I'm laughing because I can already picture how damn well you'd fit in with my team."

"Your team?" Chuck repeated lowly, and then it was his turn to laugh, "It's funny that you think I'm all gung ho about being part of you "team." What makes you think I'll just pack up and desert my partners?"

"Partners?" Fury raised an eyebrow, "I thought they are your handlers?"

"On paper, I'm the asset, they're my handlers," He mumbled at first but then grew stronger, "But after all we've been through, I can safely say that as of now, Sarah, Casey and I are partners. End of story."

"I'm not here to make you join SHEILD," Fury told him offhandedly.

"Then why did you think it was such a great idea to sneak into our supposedly high level security super secret base?"

"To put the thought in your head," he replied honestly.

"See, it's kind of hard believing that."

"I understand, but hear me out, Chuck," Fury began slowly, "Your team get's orders from the NSA, correct?"

Chuck nodded.

"After that attack last week, our top and more public agencies were dealt with a horrible blow; they lost leaders and great spies. General Diane Beckman was one of them—"

"No," Chuck cut him off, "You're wrong. The General isn't dead; she's just in a…coma."

"Exactly my point, the chances of her recovering successfully aren't in her favor. So that means you don't have a superior or an effective agency to answer to. That is unless you want to wait for some bureaucratic snob to come down and become the new NSA Director. I don't think you or your team would appreciate that all too much…"

Chuck walked back to the table and sat down. He was listening. The Director smiled gratefully.

"But SHIELD, being a low key and brand new agency that we are, was unaffected by this horrible tragedy. We already have a lead on who was responsible. Oddly enough, it's the same man who spiked that Fulcrum computer and gave you that nasty Trojan Horse."

Chuck's eyes dimmed at the mere thought. He remembered that Casey had the unfortunate opportunity to chat with the psycho. Casey told them whoever the mystery man is, was going to be a dangerous enemy for them to fight. They had no clue who he was, what he looked like, or even what his motives were.

"Who is he?" Chuck demanded in a dangerously low voice. Fury noticed his change in appearance with mild curiosity.

"His name is Walter Flagg, but we are sure that it's an alias. He's a freelancer mercenary. He's been known to associate himself with the Ten Rings, which is why I found that he would interest you."

"He almost killed me," Chuck spoke darkly, "and my team…he made me do it."

Fury let this sink in. Chuck continued to reminisce about the incident that had systematically changed him forever. There was an empty feeling in the pit of his stomach and it needed to be filled with something. Sarah's love couldn't even do it and it tore him a part that there would always be this darkness within him. He needed to silence it. So if he could just find this Walter Flagg, track him down and throw him into a cell for the rest of his life, maybe just maybe he would feel whole again. It was a slim chance, but it'll make him feel better for trying.

"I'll join on two conditions," He blurted out finally.

Director Fury looked at him thoughtfully, "And what may they be?"

"One: I don't want my Dad to be sent underground in some bunker, nor do I want him to have to go on the run again. My sister and I had enough of that and I want to actually have a family again."

Fury nodded, "I agree completely. Steven Bartowski can become an integral part of our agency. I will feel honored if he would come help us. Our technology department is limited, but growing and if we had Orion himself to assist us with a few things…"

"You need to talk to him about that," Chuck butted in and resumed his second provision, "If I can somehow convince them, Agents Sarah Walker and John Casey need to be able to defect from their old agencies and join SHIELD with me. It's either the three of us, or none of us, your choice."

Fury studied the younger man carefully and then smirked. He got up from his chair and offered his hand for a shake, "I'm impressed with you, Chuck. When I read your file I thought I was going to be dealing with some unmotivated man child who worked at an electronic store and lived with his sister. But I was wrong, thankfully."

Chuck laughed nervously but took the other man's hand. They shook on it.

"Is there anything else that uh, we need to go over? Because I kind of need to leave," Chuck pointed weakly at the stairs and began to gravitate in that direction.

"Sarah Walker and John Casey will join SHIELD, Chuck," Fury walked by him and slapped his back, "but you are special kid. You're going to be a part of something bigger."

"Bigger?" Chuck turned and met him with a confused look, "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm putting together a team." He stated simply. Leading Chuck back up to the stairs, Fury stopped and indicated his forehead, "Now what does that computer in your brain know about the Avengers Initiative?"

He flashed.

**The End**


End file.
